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VEARIIG  OF  THE  GRAY. 


WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY; 


BEING 


PERSONAL  PORTRAITS,  SCENES  AND  ADVENTURES 


OF   TUB 


A. 


BY  JOHN  ESTEN  C^OOKE, 

FORMERLY  OF  GENERAL  STUART's  STAFF,  AND  AUTHOR  OF  "  SURRY  OF  EAGLE'S 
NEST,"  "STONEWALL  JACKSON,"  ETC. 


"  The  blessed  and  ever-glorious  dead  are  not  here  to  defend  their  memories  from  the  taint 
of  the  reproach  of  rebellion  and  treason.  Alas !  I  am  alive  and  here,  and  ain  bound  at  every 
hazard  to  declare  that  these  men  were  no  rebels  and  no  traitors  .  .  .  that  they  were  pure 
patriots,  loyal  citizens,  well  tried  and  true  soldiers,  brave,  honest,  devoted  men,  who  proved 
their,  faith  in  their  principles  by  the  deaths  which  canonized  them  immortal  heroes  and 
martyrs." 

HENRY  A.  WISH. 


NEW   YOEK: 
E.   B.   TREAT  &  CO,   654  BROADWAY. 

BALTIMORE,    MD.  :   J.  S.   MORROW.      NEW  ORLEANS,    LA.  :    J.    H.    HUMMEL. 
NASHVILLE,    TENN. :    A.    S.   KIMZEY. 
1867. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1S67,  by 

E.  B.  TEE  AT  &  CO., 

Tn  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern  District  of 

Xew  York. 


THE  NEW  YORK  PRINTING  COMPANY, 

81,   83,  and  85  Centre  Street, 
NEW    YORK 


THE   ILLUSTRIOUS   MEMORY   OF 

Major-General  J.  E.  B.  STUART 

"  Flower  of  Cavaliers" 


is 


BY   AN   OLD   MEMBER   OF   HIS   STAFF 


Who  loved  him  living, 
And  mourns  him  dead. 


JOHN  ESTEN  COOKE. 


988O1.0 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PORTRAITS  ENGRAVED   ON  STEEL  FROM  PHOTOGRAPHS  TAKEN 

FROM   LIFE. 


1.  Major-General  J.  E.  B.  Stuart.     Frontispiece. 

2.  General  Robert  E.  Lee 17 

:-j.  General  G.  T.  Beauregard " 

4.  Major-General  J.  A.  Early " 

5.  Major-General  Wade  Hampton " 

6.  Major-General  Turner  Ashby '' 

7.  Major  John  Pelham u 

8.  Colonel  John  S.  Mosby " 

BATTLE   SCENES  FROM   ORIGINAL  DESIGNS. 

9.  "Wade  Hampton's  Cavalry  Fight  at  Gettysburg 57 

]  0.  Ashby's  Adventure  at  Winchester 74 

1 1 .  Death  of  Major  Pelham—'1  The  Gallant " 127 

1 2.  Stuart's  Ride  around  McClellan 177 

13.  Stuart's  Escape  from  the  Federal  Cavalry 209 

14.  Death  Wound  of  "  Stonewall  Jackson  " 301 

1 5.  How  Darrell  was  captured 423 

16.  General  Lee's  Retreat  from  Petersburg 579 


CONTENTS 


Part  1. 

PERSONAL   PORTRAITS. 

INTRODUCTION xiii 

I.  Stuart , 17 

II.  Jackson 44 

III.  Hampton 57 

IY.  Ashby  . . . . : 70 

V.  Beauregard 83 

VI.  Early 96 

VII.  Mosby .113 

VIII.  Pelham  " the  Gallant "..... 127 

IX.  Farley  "the  Scout" 141 

X.  Hardeman  Stuart,  the  Young  Captain  of  the  Signal  Corps 152 

XI.  Jennings  "Wise,  Captain  of  "  The  Blues  " 158 


Part  2. 

IN  THE   CAVALRY. 

Introduction 169 

I.  Stuart's  "  Ride  around  McClellan,"  in  June,  1862 174 

II.  Stuart  on  the  Outpost ;  a  Scene  at  "  Camp  Qui  Vive  " 192 

III.  One  of  Stuart's  Escapes 204 

IV.  A  Glimpse  of  Colonel  "  Jeb  Stuart " . .  .212 

V.  A  Deserter .220 

VI.  A  Young  Virginian  and  his  Spurs , 228 

VII.  To  Gettysburg  and  Back  Again    236 

VIII.  From  the  Rapidan  to  Frying-Pan ;  in  October,  1863 263 

IX.  Major  R 's  Little  Private  Scout  . 279 

X.  A  Dash  at  Aldie ' 284 

XI.  Jackson's  Death-Wound 297 

XII.  Facetiae  of  the  Camp— Souvenirs  of  a  C.  S.  Officer 310 


CONTENTS. 


Part  3. 


OUTLINES  FROM  THE  OUTPOST. 

I.  A  Scout  across  the  Rappahannock 323 

II.  How  I  was  Arrested 333 

III.  Mosby's  Eaid  into  Fairfax 346 

IV.  My  Friend  Lieutenant  Bumpo 354 

V.  Corporal  Shabrach : 

I.  His  Opinion  of  General  Lee 365 

II.  His  Description  of  the  Passport  Office 372 

VI.  The  Band  of  the  "  First  Virginia". 377 

VII.  The  "  Old  Stonewall  Brigade" 382 

VIII.  Annals  of  "  The  Third  " .' 389 

IX.  Blunderbus  on  Picket-*. ! 402 

X.  Adventures  of  Darrell : 

I.  How  he  took  Upton's  Hill 410 

II.  His  Eecollections  of  Manassas  and  the  "  Gamest  Yankee  " . .  .416 

III.  How  he  was  Captured 423 

IV.  Incidents  of  the  Peninsula 434 

XI.  Longbow's  Horse 445 

XII.  Roslyn  and  the  White  House  :  Before  and  After 462 

XIII.  On  the  Wing 474 


Part  4. 


SCOUT    LIFE. 

I.  The  Scouts 483 

II.  Hunted  Down 487 

III.  How  S Overheard  his  Death-Warrant ". 500 

IV.  How  S Captured  a  Federal  Colonel's  Hat 509 

V.  How  S Carried  off  a  Federal  Field-Officer 514 

VI.  An  Adventure  with  the  "Bluebirds " 520 


Part  5. 


LATTER  DAYS. 

I.  On  the  Road  to  Petersburg:  Notes  of  an  Officer  of  the  C.  S.  A 527 

II.  A  Family  Rifle-Pit:  an  Incident  of  Wilson's  Raid 536 

III.  A  Fight,  a  Dead  Man,  and  a  Coffin 542 

IV.  General  Pegram  on  the  Night  before  his  Death 553 

V.  Lee's  Last  Battles  ..  556 


PART  I. 
PERSONAL  PORTRAITS. 


THESE  ''Personal  Portraits"  were  undertaken  with  the  design 
of  making  better  known  and  understood  the  great  actors  in  the 
recent  struggle  who  are  the  subjects  of  them. 

It  is  a  matter  of  grave  importance  that  the  illustrious  figures 
of  the  war  should  not  be  obscured  by  the  mists  of  ignorance  or 
falsehood.  ISTor  can  they  be.  Dulness  and  slander  do  not  long 
blind  the  eyes  of  men ;  and  sooner  or  later  the  light  of  truth 
makes  all  things  visible  in  their  natural  colours  and  proportions. 
To  the  good  work  of  placing  upon  record  the  actual  truth  in 
relation  to  the  lives  and  characters  of  Stuart  and  some  other 
noble  soldiers  of  the  Southern  army,  the  writer  of  this  page  has 
here  brought  a  few  of  his  recollections — aiming  to  draw  these 
"worthies"  rather  as  they  lived  and  moved,  following  their 
various  idiosyncrasies,  than  as  they  performed  their  "official" 
duties  on. the  public  stage.  This  seemed  best  calculated  to  dis 
play  their  real  individuality — the  embodiment  of  their  personal 
characteristics  in  a  portrait  with  the  pen,  as  a  painter  draws  the 
form  and  features  of  his  sitter  with  the  brush. 

Such  personal  details  of  the  characters  of  these  eminent  men 
will  not  be  uninteresting  to  the  lovers  of  noble  natures  of  what 
ever  " faction;"  nor  is  the  fondness  for  such  particulars  either 
trivial  or  ignoble.  They  elucidate  biography  and  history— which 
are  the  same — for  they  present  the  likeness  of  the  actor  in  the 
drama,  his  character  and  endowments  ;  and  to  know  what  great 
men  are,  is  better  than  to  know  what  they  perform.  What  Lee, 
Jackson,  Johnston,  Stuart,  and  their  associates  accomplished, 
history  will  record ;  how  they  looked,  and  moved,  and  spoke, 


XIV  INTRODUCTION. 

will  attract  much  less  attention  from  the  "  historian  of  the 
future."  The  august  muse  of  history  will  make  lier  partial  and 
passionate,  or  fair  and  dignified,  summary  of  the  events  of  the 
late  war ;  will  discuss  the  causas  resum  with  learned  philosophy  ; 
and  mete  out  in  rounded  periods  what  she  thinks  the  due 
amount  of  glory  or  shame  to  the  actors,  in  gray  or  in  blue.  But 
meanwhile  the  real  personages  disappear,  and  the  colours  fade  ; 
figures  become  historical  personages,  not  men.  And  events,  too, 
"suffer  change."  They  are  fused  in  the  mass;  generalization 
replaces  the  particular  incident  as  it  does  the  impressive  trait; 
• — the  terrible  dust  of  "  official  documents"  obscures  personages, 
characters,  and  events. 

This  is  trite,  but  it  is  true  ;  and  the  fact  thus  larnely  stated  is 
one  of  the  "  chiefest  spites  of  fate."  For  what  is  the  picture 
worth  unless  drawn  in  its  actual  colours  ? — what  the  value  of  ths 
figures  unless  they  are  likenesses  ?  The  war  just  ended  was  not 
an  "  official  transaction,"  only  to  be  calmly  narrated  with  digni 
fied  generalization,  philosophic  reasoning,  and  commonplace 
comment  upon  peace  conferences,  grand  tactics,  and  the  political 
bearing  of  the  result.  It  was  a  mighty  drama,  all  life,  passion, 
movement,  incident,  and  romance — a  singular  melange,  wherein 
tears,  laughter,  sighs  and  smiles,  rapidly  followed  eacn  other, 
communicating  to  the  bitter  and  determined  struggle  all  the  pro 
found  interest  of  a  tragedy  whose  scenes  sweep  on  before  the 
spectator  to  the  catastrophe.  Nor  were  the  actors  in  the  tragedy 
blocks  of  wood,  or  merely  "  official  personages"  playing  coldly 
their  stage  parts.  They  were  men  of  flesh  and  blood,  full  of 
high  resolve,  vehement  passion ;  subject  to  hope,  fear,  rejoicing, 
depression ;  but  faithful  through  all  to  the  great  principles  which 
drove  them  on — principles  in  which  they  believed,  and  for 
which  they  were  ready  to  die.  They  were  noble  types  of  the 
great  Norman  race  t>f  which  the  Southern  people  come— brave, 
honourable,  courteous,  social ;  quick  in  resentment,  proud,  but 
placable ;  and  these  conspicuous  traits  were  everywhere  seen  in 
their  actions  and  daily  lives. 

The  portraits  here  presented  of  a  few  of  these  men  may  be 
rude  and  incomplete,  but  they  are  likenesses.  No  personage  is 


INTRODUCTION.  XV 

spoken  of  with  whom  the  writer  was  not  more  or  less  acquaint 
ed;  and  every  trait  and  incident  set  down  was  either  observed 
by  himself  or  obtaine'd  from  good  authority.  Invention  has 
absolutely  nothing  to  do  with  the  sketches ;  the  writer  has  re 
corded  his  recollections,  and  not  his  fancies.  The  "  picturesque  " 
is  a  poor  style  of  art,  when  truth  is  sacrificed  to  it.  To  repre 
sent  General  Lee  decked  out  in  a  splendid  uniform  bedizzened 
with  gold  lace,  on  a  "  prancing  steed,"  and  followed  by  a  nume 
rous  and  glittering  staff,  might  "  tickle  the  ears  of  the  ground 
lings;"  but  the  picture  would  be  apt  to  "  make  the  judicious 
grieve/'  The  latter  class  would  much  prefer  the  actual  man,  in 
his  old  gray  cape  and  plain  brown  coat,  riding,  unattended,  on 
his  sober  iron-gray  along  the  lines ;  would  rather  hear  him  say 
amid  the  storm  of  Gettysburg,  in  his  cairn  brave  voice,  "  Never 
mind  ;  it  is  not  your  fault,  General ;  I  am  to  blame,"  than  read 
the  most  eloquent  sentences  which  the  imagination  could  invent 
for  him.  And  in  regard  to  others,  the  truth  would  possess  an 
equal  superiority  over  fiction.  Jackson  was  a  noble  human 
soul;  pure,  generous,  fearless,  of  imperial  genius  for  making 
war ;  but  why  claim  for  him  personal  graces,  and  the  charm  of 
social  humour?  Stuart  ranked  justly  with  the  two  or  three 
greatest  cavalry  commanders  of  the  world,  and  in  his  character 
combined  gaiety,  courage,  resolution,  winning  manners,  and  the 
purest  traits  of  the  gentleman  and  Christian ;  but  why  draw  the 
gallant  cavalier  as  utterly  faultless,  never  moved  by  anger,  ever 
serious  and  devout  as  was  Jackson  ?  By  such  a  process  the 
actual  characters  disappear;  the  real  men,  with  faults  and  vir 
tues,  grand  traits  and  foibles,  become  mere  lay-figures  to  hang 
uniforms  upon.  The  pictures  should  either  be  made  likenesses, 
or  not  be  painted;  events  should  be  represented  in  their  real 
colours,  or  not  at  all. 

These  few  words  will  explain  the  character  of  the  sketches 
here  presented,  and  the  theory  "upon  which  the  writer  has  pro 
ceeded  in  drawing  them.  They  are  conscientious  "  studies,"  and 
the  result  of  an  honest  desire  to  elucidate  the  characters  of  their 
subjects,  who  are  here  described  in  rapid  outline  as  they  lived 
and  moved  before  all  eyes  upon  the  stage  of  the  war.  Eulogy 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


XVI  INTRODUCTION. 

has  not  magnified  them,  as  partisan  rancour  has  not  blackened 
their  adversaries.  They  appeared  as  they  are  here  drawn  to  the 
eyes  of  the  writer;  if  the  portraits  are  unfaithful,  it  is  not  be 
cause  he  lacked  the  fairness,  but  wanted  the  ability,  to  "  denote 
them  truly." 


18  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

the  hunter  springs  on  horseback;  and  at  such  moments  his 
cheeks  glowed,  and  his  huge  moustache  curled  with  enjoyment. 
The  romance  and  poetry  of  the  hard  trade  of  arms  seemed  first 
to  be  inaugurated  when  this  joyous  cavalier,  with  his  floating 
plume  and  splendid  laughter,  appeared  upon  the  great  arena  of 
the  war  in  Virginia. 

This  gay  bearing  of  the  man  was  plainly  unaffected,  and  few 
persons  could  resist  its  influence.  There  was  about  Stuart  an 
inspiration  of  joy  and  youth.  The  war  was  evidently  like  play 
to  him — and  he  accepted  its  most  perilous  scenes  and  cruellest 
hardships  with  the  careless  abandon  of  a  young  knight-errant 
seeking  adventures.  Nothing  seemed  strong  enough  to  break 
down  his  powerful  organization  of  mind  and  body  ;  and  danger 
only  aroused  and  brought  his  full  faculties  into  play.  He  greeted 
it  with  ardour  and  defied  it  with  his  joyous  laughter — leading  hi§ 
column  in  desperate. 'charges  with  a  smile  upon  the  lips.  Others 
might  despond,  but  Stuart  kept  his  good  spirits ;  and  while  the 
•«tt  ar^i)/Q(J  hrni;w^s.full  df  hissing  balls  and  bursting  shell,  he 
would  hum  his  gay  songs.  In  Culpeper  the  infantry  were  elec 
trified  by  the  laughter  and  singing  of  Stuart  as  he  led  them  in 
the  charge ;  and  at  Chancellorsville,  where  he  commanded  Jack 
son's  corps  after  that  great  man's  fall,  the  infantry  veterans  as 
they  swept  on,  carrying  line  after  line  of  breastworks  at  the  point 
of  the  bayonet,  saw  his  plume  floating  in  front — "like  Henry  of 
Navarre's,"  one  of  them  said — and  heard  his  sonorous  voice 
singing,  "  Old  Joe  Hooker,  will  you  come  out  of  the  Wilder 
ness  ! " 

This  curious  spirit  of  boyish  gaiety  did  not  characterize  him  on 
certain  occasions  only,  but  went  with  him  always,  surrounding 
every  movement  of  the  man  with  a  certain  atmosphere  of  frolic 
and  abandon.  Immense  animal  health  and  strength  danced  in 
his  eyes,  gave  elasticity  to  the  motions  of  his  person,  and  rang 
in  his  contagious  laughter.  It  was  hard  to  realize  that  anything 
could  hurt  this  powerful  machine,  or  that  death  could  ever  come 
to  him ;  and  the  perilous  positions  from  which  he  had  so  often 
escaped  unharmed,  appeared  to  justify  the  idea  of  his  invul 
nerability.  Although  he  exposed  his  person  recklessly  in  more 


STUART.  19 

than  a  hundred  hot  engagements,  he  was  never  wounded  in  any. 
The  rosebud  in  his  button-hole,  which  some  child  or  girl  had 
given  him,  or  rather  say  his  mother's  Bible,  which  he  always 
carried,  seemed  to  protect  him.  Death  appeared  to  shrink  be 
fore  him  and  avoid  him ;  and  he  laughed  in  the  grim  face,  and 
dared  it  for  three  years  of  reckless  fighting,  in  which  he  seemed 
every  day  to  be  trying  to  get  himself  killed. 

His  personal  appearance  coincided  with  his  character.  Every 
thing  about  the  man  was  youthful,  picturesque,  and  brilliant. 
Lee,  Jackson,  and  other  eminent  soldiers  of  the  South,  seemed 
desirous  of  avoiding,  in  their  dress  and  accoutrements  every 
species  of  display,  and  to  aim  at  making  themselves  resemble 
as  closely  as  possible  their  brave  soldiers,  whose  uniforms  were 
sadly  deficient  in  military  gewgaws.  Stuart's  taste  was  exactly 
the  opposite.  He  was  as  fond  of  colours  as  a  boy  or  a  girl.  His 
fighting  jacket  shone  with  dazzling  buttons  and  was  covered 
with  gold  braid ;  his  hat  was  looped  up  with  a  golden  star,  and 
decorated  with  a  black  ostrich  plume ;  his  fine  buff  gauntlets 
reached  to  the  elbow  ;  around  his  waist  was  tied  a  splendid  yel 
low  silk  sash,  and  his  spurs  were  of  pure  gold.  The  stern  Iron 
sides  of  Cromwell  would  have  sneered  at  this  "  frivolous  boy" 
as  they  sneered  at  Prince  Eupert,  with  his  scarlet  cloak,  his  wav 
ing  plume,  his  white  dog,  and  his  twenty-three  years— all  the 
more  as  Stuart  had  a  white  dog  for  a  pet,  wore  a  cape  lined  with 
scarlet,  had  a  plume  in  his  hat,  and — to  complete  the  compari 
son — is  said  to  have  belonged  to  that  royal  family  of  Stuarts 
from  which  Rupert  sprang.*  Many  excellent  people  did  not 
hesitate  to  take  the  Ironside  view.  They  regarded  and  spoke 
of  Stuart  as  a  trifling  military  fop — a  man  who  had  in  some 
manner  obtained  a  great  command  for  which  he-  was  wholly 
unfit.  They  sneered  at  his  splendid  costume,  his  careless  laugh 
ter,  his  "love  of  ladies;"  at  his  banjo-player,  his  flower- wreathed 
horses,  and  his  gay  verses.  The  enemy  were  wiser.  Buford, 
Bayard,  Pleasanton,  Stoneman,  and  their  associates,  did  not  com 
mit  that  blunder.  They  had  felt  the  heavy  arm  too  often ;  and 
knew  too  well  the  weight  of  that  flower-encircled  weapon. 

*  Prince  Kupert  was  the  nephew  of  Charles  I.,  and  the  son  of  Elizabeth  Stuart 


20  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

There  were  three  other  men  who  could  never  be  persuaded 
that  Stuart  was  no  cavalry  officer,  and  who  persisted  in  regard 
ing  this  boyish  cavalier  as  their  right-hand  man — the  "  eye  and 
ear"  of  their  armies.  These  men  were  Lee,  Johnston,  and  Jack 
son. 


II. 

Stuart's  great  career  can  be  alluded  to  but  briefly  here. 
Years  crammed  with  incident  and  adventure  cannot  be  summed 
up  on  a  page. 

He  was  twenty-seven  when  he  resigned  his  first-lieutenancy 
in  the  United  States  cavalry,  and  came  to  offer  his  sword  to  Vir 
ginia.  He  was  sprung  from  an  old  and  honourable  family  there^ 
and  his  love  of  his  native  soil  was  strong.  Upon  his  arrival  he 
was  made  lieutenant-colonel,  and  placed  in  command  of  the 
cavalry  on  the  Upper  Potomac,  where  he  proved  himself  so  vigi 
lant  a  soldier  that  Johnston  called  him  "  the  indefatigable  Stu 
art,"  and  compared  him  to  "a  yellow  jacket,"  which  was  "no 
sooner  brushed  off  than  it  lit  back."  He  had  command  of  the 
whole  front  until  Johnston  left  the  valley,  when  he  moved  with 
the  column  to  Manassas,  and  charged  and  broke  the  New  York 
Zouaves ;  afterwards  held  the  front  toward  Alexandria,  under 
Beauregard ;  then  came  the  hard  falling  back,  the  struggle  upon 
the  Peninsula,  the  battle  of  Cold  Harbour,  and  the  advancewhich 
followed  into  Maryland.  Stuart  was  now  a  general,  and  laid 
the  foundation  of  his  fame  by  the  "ride  around  McClellan" 
on  the  Chickahominy.  Thenceforth  he  was  the  right  hand  of 
Lee  until  his  death. 

The  incidents  of  his  career  from  the  spring  of  1862  to  May, 
1864,  would  fill  whole  volumes.  The  ride  around  McClellan ; 
the  fights  on  the  Kapidan ;  the  night  march  to  Catlett's,  where 
he  captured  General  Pope's  coat  and  official  papers ;  the  advance 
to  Manassas ;  the  attack  on  Flint  Hill ;  the  hard  rear-guard  work 
at  South  Mountain  ;  holding  the  left  at  Sharpsburg  ;  the  circuit 
of  McClellan  again  in  Maryland ;  the  bitter  conflicts  near  Up- 
perville  as  Lee  fell  back ;  the  fighting  all  along  the  slopes  of  the 


STUAKT.  21 

Blue  Ridge  ;  the  "crowding  'em  with  artillery"  on  the  night  at 
Fredericksburg ;  the  winter  march  upon  Dumfries;  the  battle 
of  Chancellorsville,  where  he  commanded  Jackson's  corps ;  the 
advance  thereafter,  and  the  stubborn  conflict  at  Fleetwood  Hill 
on  the  9th  of  June ;  the  hard,  obstinate  fighting  once  more  to 
guard  the  flanks  of  Lee  on  his  way  to  Gettysburg ;  the  march 
across  the  Potomac ;  the  advance  to  within  sight  of  Washington, 
and  the  invasion  of  Pennsylvania,  with  the  determined  fights 
at  Hanovertown,  Carlisle,  and  Gettysburg,  where  he  met  and 
drove  before  him  the  crack  cavalry  of  the  Federal  army ;  the 
retreat  thereafter  before  an  enraged  enemy ;  the  continuous  com 
bats  of  the  mountain  passes,  and  in.  the  vicinity  of  Boonsboro' ; 
the  obstinate  stand 'he  made  once  more  on  the  old  ground  around 
Upperville  as  Lee  again  fell  back  ;  the  heavy  petites  guerres  of 
Culpeper;  the  repulse  of  Ouster  when  he  attacked  Charlottes- 
ville ;  the  expedition  to  the  rear  of  General  Meade  when  he 
came  over  to  Mine  Run ;  the  bitter  struggle  in  the  Wilderness 
when  General  Grant  advanced  ;  the  fighting  all  along  the  Po  in 
Spotsylvania ;  the  headlong  gallop  past  the  South  Anna,  and 
the  bloody  struggle  near  the  Yellow  Tavern,  where  the  cavalier, 
who  had  passed  through  a  hundred  battles  untouched,  came  to 
his  end  at  last — these  are  a  few  of  the  pictures  which  rise  up 
before  the  mind's  eye  at  those  words,  "  the  career  of  Stuart."  In 
the  brief  space  of  a  sketch  like  this,  it  is  impossible  to  attempt 
any  delineation  of  these  crowding  scenes  and  events.  They 
belong  to  history,  and  will  sooner  or  later  be  placed  upon  record 
— for  a  thousand  octavos  cannot  bury  them  as  long  as  one  fore 
finger  and  thumb  remains  to  write  of  them.  All  that  is  here 
designed  is  a  rough  cartoon  of  the  actual  man — not  a  fancy 
figure,  the  work  of  a  eulogist,  but  a  truthful  likeness,  however 
poorly  executed. 

III. 

I  have  supposed  that  the  reader  would  be  more  interested  in 
Stuart  the  man  than  in  Stuart  the  Major-General  command 
ing.  History  will  paint  the  latter — my  page  deals  with  the 


22  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

former  chiefly.  It  is  in  dress,  habits,  the  tone  of  the  voice, 
the  demeanour  in  private,  that  men's  characters  are  read ;  and 
I  have  never  seen  a  man  who  looked  his  character  more  perfect 
ly  than  Stuart. 

He  was  the  cavalier  par  excellence;  and  everything  which 
he  did,  or  said,  was  "  in  character."  We  know  a  clergyman 
sometimes  by  his  moderation,  mild  address,  black  coat,  and 
white  cravat ;  a  merchant  by  his  quick  movements  and  "  busi 
ness-like  "  manner ;  a  senator  by  his  gravity  ;  and  a  poet  by 
his  dreamy  eye.  You  saw  in  the  same  manner,  at  a  single 
glance,  that  Stuart  was  a  cavalry-man — in  his  dress,  voice,  walk, 
manner,  everything.  All  about  him  was  military;  and,  fine 
as  his  costume  undoubted^  was,  it  "  looked  like  work."  There 
was  no  little  fondness,  as  I  have  said,  for  bright  colours  an<^ 
holiday  display  in  his  appearance;  and  he  loved  the  parade, 
the  floating  banner,  the  ring  of  the  bugle,  "ladies'  eyes" — 
all  the  glory,  splendour,  and  brilliant  colouring  of  life ;  but 
the  soldier  of  hard  fibre  and  hard  work  was  under  the  gallant. 
Some  day  a  generation  will  come  who  will  like  to  know  all 
about  the  famous  "  Jeb  Stuart" — let  me  therefore  limn  him 
as  he  appeared  in  the  years  1862  and  1863. 

His  frame  was  low  and  athletic — close  knit  and  of  very  great 
strength  and  endurance,  as  you  could  see  at  a  glance.  His 
countenance  was  striking  and  attracted  attention — the  forehead 
broad,  lofty,  and  indicating  imagination  ;  the  nose  prominent, 
and  inclining  to  "Eoman,"  with  large  and  mobile  nostrils; 
the  lips  covered  with  a  heavy  brown  moustache,  curled  upward 
at  the  ends  ;  the  chin  by  a  huge  beard  of  the  same  colour, 
which  descended  upon  the  wearer's  breast.  Such  was  the  rather 
brigandish  appearance  of  Stuart — but  I  have  omitted  to  notice 
the  eyes.  They  were  clear,  penetrating,  and  of  a  brilliant  blue. 
They  could  be  soft  or  fiery — would  fill  with  laughter  or  dart 
flame.  Anything  more  menacing  than  that  flame,  when  Stuart 
was  hard  pressed,  it  would  be  difficult  to  conceive ;  but  the 
prevailing  expression  was  gay  and  laughing.  He  wore  a  brown 
felt  hat  looped  up  with  a  starrand  ornamented  with  an  ebon 
feather;  a  double-breasted  jacket  always  open  and  buttoned 


STUART.  23 

back ;  gray  waistcoat  and  pantaloons ;  and  boots  to  the  knee, 
decorated  with  small  spurs,  which  he  wore  even  in  dancing.  To 
proceed  with  my  catalogue  of  the  soldier's  accoutrements :  on 
marches  he  threw  over  his  shoulders  his  gray  cavalry  cape,  and 
on  the  pommel  of  his  saddle  was  strapped  an  oil-cloth  overall, 
used  as  a  protection  in  rain,  which,  instead  of  annoying  him, 
seemed  to  raise  his  spirits.  In  the  midst  of  rain-storms,  when 
everybody  was  riding  along  grum  and  cowering  beneath  the 
flood  pouring  down,  he  would  trot  on,  head  up,  and  singing 
gaily.  His  arms  were,  a  light  French  sabre,  balanced  by  a  pistol 
in  a  black  holster  ;  his  covering  at  night,  a  red  blanket,  strapped 
in  an  oil-cloth  behind  the  saddle.  Such  was  the  "outer  man" 
of  Stuart  in  camp  and  field.  His  fondness  for  bright  colours, 
however,  sometimes  made  him  don  additional  decorations. 
Among  these  was  a  beautiful  yellow  sash,  whose  folds  he  would 
carefully  wrap  around  his  waist,  skilfully  tying  the  ends  on  the 
left  side  so  that  the  tassels  fell  full  in  view.  Over  this  he  would 
buckle  his  belt;  his  heavy  boots  would  be  changed  for  a. pair 
equally  high,  but  of  bright  patent  leather,  decorated  with  gold 
thread ;  and  then  the  gallant  Jeb  Stuart  was  ready  to  visit  some 
body.  This  love  of  gay  colours  was  shown  in  other  ways.  He 
never  moved  on  the  field  without  his  splendid  red  battle-flag  ;  and 
more  than  once  this  prominent  object,  flaunting  in  the  wind, 
drew  the  fire  of  the  enemy's  artillery  on  himself  and  staff. 
Among  flowers,  he  preferred  the  large  dazzling  "  Giant  of  Bat 
tles,"  with  its  blood-red  disk.  But  he  loved  all  blooms  for  their 
brilliance.  Lent  was  not  his  favourite  season.  Life  in  his  eyes 
was  best  when  it  was  all  flowers,  bright  colours,  and  carnival. 

He  was  a  bold  and  expert  rider,  and  stopped  at  nothing. 
Frequently  the  headlong  speed  with  which  he  rode  saved  him 
from  death  or  capture — as  at  Sharpsburg,  where  he  darted  close 
along  the  front  of  a  Federal  regiment  which  rose  and  fired  on 
him.  The  speed  of  his  horse  was  so  great  that  not  a  ball  struck 
him.  At  Hanovertown,  in  1863,  and  on  a  hundred  occasions, 
he  was  chased,  when  almost  unattended,  by  Federal  cavalry ;  but, 
clearing  fence  and  ravine,  escaped.  He  was  a  "horse-man"  in 
his  knowledge  of  horses,  but  had  no  "  passion  "  for  them  ;  pre- 


24  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

ferred  animals  of  medium  size,  which  wheeled,  leaped,  and 
moved  rapidly;  and,  mounted  upon  his  "Skylark,"  "Star  of  the 
East,5'  "Lady  Margaret,"  or  "Lily  of  the  Valley,"  he  was  the 
picture  of  a  bold  cavalier,  prepared  to  go  into  a  charge,  or  to 
take  a  gallop  by  moonlight — ready  for  a  fight  or  a  frolic. 

It  was  out  of  the  saddle,  however,  that  Stuart  was  most  attrac 
tive.  There  he  was  busy ;  in  his  tent,  when  his  work  was  once 
over,  he  was  as  insouciant  as  a  boy.  Never  was  there  a  human 
being  of  readier  laughter.  He  dearly  loved  a  joke,  and  would 
have  one  upon  everybody.  They  were  not  mild  either.  He 
loved  a  horse-joke,  and  a  horse-laugh.  But  the  edge  of  his 
satire,  although  keen,  was  never  envenomed.  The  uproarious 
humour  of  the  man  took  away  anything  like  sarcasm  from  his 
wit,  and  he  liked  you  to  "  strike  back."  What  are  called  "  great 
people"  sometimes  break  their  jests  upon  lesser  personages,  with 
a  tacit  understanding  that  the  great  personage  shall  not  be  jested 
at  in  return.  Such  deference  to  his  rank  was  abhorrent  to  Stu 
art.  He  jested  roughly,  but  you  were  welcome  to  handle  him 
as  roughly  in  return.  If  you  could  turn  the  laugh  upon  him, 
you  were  perfectly  welcome  so  to  do,  and  he  never  liked  you 
the  less  for  it.  In  winter-quarters  his  tent  was  a  large  affair, 
with  a  good  chimney  and  fireplace;  in  the  summer,  on  active 
service,  a  mere  breadth  of  canvas  stretched  over  rails  against  a 
tree,  and  open  at  both  ends.  Or  he  had  no  tent,  and  slept  under 
a  tree.  The  canvas  "fly"  only  came  into  requisition  when  he 
rested  for  a  few  days  from  the  march.  Under  this  slight  shelter, 
Stuart  was  like  a  king  of  rangers.  On  one  side  was  his  chair 
and  desk ;  on  the  other,  his  blankets  spread  on  the  ground : 
at  his  feet  his  two  setters,  "Nip"  and  "Tuck,"  whom  he  had 
brought  out  of  Culpeper,  on  the  saddle,  as  he  fell  back  before 
the  enemy.  When  tired  of  writing,  he  would  throw  himself 
upon  his  blankets,  play  with  his  pets,  laugh  at  the  least  provo 
cation,  and  burst  into  some  gay  song. 

He  had  a  strong  love  for  music,  and  sang,  himself,  in  a  clear, 
sonorous,  and  correct  voice.  His  favourites  were  :  "  The  bugle 
sang  truce,  for  the  night  cloud  had  lowered;"  "The  dew  is  on 
the  blossom ;"  "  Sweet  Evelina,"  and  "  Evelyn,"  among  pathetic 


STUART.  25 

songs ;  but  comic  ones  were  equal  or  greater  favourites  with  him : 
"  If  you  get  there  before  I  do ;"  "  The  old  gray  horse  ;"  "  Come 
out  of  the  wilderness,"  and  a  If  you  want  to  have  a  good  time, 
join  the  cavalry,"  came  from  his  lips  in  grand  uproarious  mer 
riment,  the  very  woods  ringing  with  the  strains.  This  habit 
of  singing  had  always  characterized  him.  From  the  days  in  the 
valley  when  he  harassed  Paterson  so,  with  his  omnipresent  cav 
alry,  he  had  fought  and  sung  alternately.  Riding  at  the  head 
of  his  long  column,  bent  upon  some  raid,  or  advancing  to  attack 
the  enemy,  he  would  make  the  forest  resound  with  his  sonorous 
songs  ;  and  a  gentleman  who  met  him  one  day,  thus  singing  in 
front  of  his  men,  said  that  the  young  cavalier  was  his  perfect 
ideal  of  a  knight  of  romance.  It  might  almost,  indeed,  be  said 
that  music  was  his  passion,  as  Vive  la  joief  might  have  been 
regarded  as  his  motto.  His  banjo-player,  Sweeny,  was  the  con 
stant  inmate  of  his  tent,  rode  behind  him  on  the  march,  and 
went  with  him  to  social  gatherings.  Stuart  wrote  his  most  im 
portant  dispatches  and  correspondence  with  the  rattle  of  the  gay 
instrument  stunning  everybody,  and  would  turn  round  from  his 
work,  burst  into  a  laugh,  and  join  uproariously  in  Sweeny's 
chorus.  On  the  march,  the  banjo  was  frequently  put  in  requisi 
tion  ;  and  those  "  grave  people  "  who  are  shocked  by  "  frivolity" 
must  have  had  their  breath  almost  taken  away  by  this  extraor 
dinary  spectacle  of  the  famous  General  Stuart,  commanding  all 
the  cavalry  of  General  Lee's  army,  moving  at  the  head  of  his 
hard-fighting  corps  with  a  banjo-player  rattling  behind  him. 
But  Stuart  cared  little  for  the  "  grave  people."  He  fought 
harder  than  they  did,  and  chose  to  amuse  himself  in  his  own 
way.  Lee,  Johnston,  and  Jackson,  had  listened  to  that  banjo 
without  regarding  it  as  frivolous ;  and  more  than  once  it  had 
proved  a  relaxation  after  the  exhausting  cares  of  command.'  So 
it  rattled  on  still,  and  Stuart  continued  to  laugh,  without  caring 
much  about  "the  serious  family"  class.  He  had  on  his  side 
Lee,  Jackson,  and  the  young  ladies  who  danced  away  gaily 
to  Sweeny's  music— what  mattered  it  whether  Aminadab  Sleek, 
Esq.,  approved  or  disapproved  ! 

The  "  young  lady  "  element  was  an  important  one  with  Stuart 


26  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

Never  have  I  seen  a  purer,  more  knightly,  or  more  charming 
gallantry  than  his.  He  was  here,  as  in  all  his  life,  the  Christian 
gentleman,  the  loyal  and  consistent  professor  of  religion ;  but 
with  this  delicacy  of  the  chevalier  was  mingled  the  gaiety  of 
the  boy.  He  was  charmed,  and  charmed  in  return.  Ladies 
were  his  warmest  admirers — for  they  saw  that  under  his  laugh 
ing  exterior  was  an  earnest  nature  and  a  warm  heart.  Every 
thing  drew  them  towards  him.  The  romance  of  his  hard  career, 
the  adventurous  character  of  the  man,  his  mirth,  wit,  gallantry, 
enthusiasm,  and  the  unconcealed  pleasure  which  he  showed  in 
their  society,  made  him  their  prime  favourite.  They  flocked 
around  him,  gave  him  flowers,  and  declared  that  if  they  could 
they  would  follow  his  feather  and  fight  with  him.  With  all 
this,  Stuart  was  delighted.  He  gave  them  positions  on  his  staff, 
placed  the  flowers  in  his  button-hole,  kissed  the  fair  hands  that 
presented  them,  and  if  the  cheek  was  near  the  hand,  he  would 
laugh  and  kiss  that  too.  The  Sleek  family  cried  out  at  this, 
and  rolled  their  eyes  in  horror — but  it  is  hard  to  please  the 
Sleek  family.  Stuart  was  married,  a  great  public  character,  had 
fought  in  defence  of  these  young  ladies  upon  a  hundred  battle 
fields,  and  was  going  to  die  for  them.  It  does  not  seem  so  huge 
an  enormity  as  the  Sleeks  everywhere  called  it — that  while  the 
blue  eyes  flashed,  the  eyes  of  women  should  give  back  their 
splendour ;  while  the  lips  were  warm,  they  should  not  shrink 
from  them.  Soon  the  eyes  were  to  grow  dim,  and  the  lips 
cold. 

Stuart  was  best  loved  by  those  who  knew  him  best;  and  it 
may  here  be  recorded  that  his  devotion  towards  his  young  wife 
and  children  attracted  the  attention  of  every  one.  His  happiest 
hours  were  spent  in  their  society,  and  he  never  seemed  so  well 
satisfied  as  when  they  were  in  his  tent.  To  lie  upon  his  camp- 
couch  and  play  with  one  of  his  children,  appeared  to  be  the 
summit  of  felicity  with  him ;  and  when,  during  the  hard  falling 
back  near  Upperville,  in  the  fall  of  1862,  the  news  came  of  the 
death  of  his  little  daughter  Flora,  he  seemed  almost  overcome. 
Many  months  afterwards,  when  speaking  of  her,  the  tears 
gushed  to  his  eyes,  and  he  murmured  in  a  broken  voice :  "  I  will 


STUART.  27 

never  get  over  it — never !  "  He  seemed  rough  and  hard  to  those 
who  only  saw  him  now  and  then  ;  but  the  persons  who  lived 
with  him  knew  his  great  kindness  of  heart.  Under  that  care 
less,  jesting,  and  often  curt  demeanour,  was  a  good,  true  heart. 
The  'fibre  of  the  man  was  tough  under  all  strain,  and  his  whole 
organization  was  masculine  ;  but  he  exhibited,  sometimes,  a  soft 
ness  of  feeling  which  might  almost  be  called  tenderness.  A 
marked  trait  of  his  character  was  this  :  that  if  he  had  offended 
anybody,  or  wounded  their  feelings,  be  could  never  rest  until  he 
had  in  some  way  made  amends.  His  temper  was  irascible  at 
times,  and  he  would  utter  harsh  words ;  but  the  flaming  eyes 
soon  softened,  the  arrogant  manner  disappeared.  In  ten  minutes 
his  arm  would  probably  be  upon  the  shoulder  or  around  the 
neck  of  the  injured  individual,  and  his  voice  would  become 
caressante.  This  was  almost  amusing,  and  showed  his  good 
heart.  Like  a  child,  he  must  "  make  up  "  with  people  he  had 
unintentionally  offended;  and  he  never  rested  until  he  suc 
ceeded.  Let  it  not  be  understood,  however,  that  this  placability 
of  temperament  came  into  play  in  "  official "  affairs.  There 
Stuart  was  as  hard  as  adamant,  and  nothing  moved  him.  He 
never  forgave  opposition  to  his  will,  or  disobedience  of  his 
orders;  and  though  never  bearing  malice,  was  a  thoroughly 
good  hater.  His  prejudices  were  strong ;  and  when  once  he  had 
made  up  his  mind  deliberately,  nothing  would  change  him.  He 
was  immovable  and  implacable  ;  and  against  these  offenders  he 
threw  the  whole  weight  of  his  powerful  will  and  his  high  posi 
tion,  determined  to  crush  them.  That,  however,  was  in  public 
and  official  matters.  In  all  the  details  of  his  daily  life  he  was 
thoroughly  lovable,  as  many  persons  still  living  can  testify. 
He  was  the  most  approachable  of  major-generals,  and  jested 
with  the  private  soldiers  of  his  command  as  jovially  as  though 
he  had  been  one  of  themselves.  The  men  were  perfectly  uncon 
strained  in  his  presence,  and  treated  him  more  like  the  chief 
huntsman  of  a  hunting  party  than  as  a  major-general.  His 
staff  were  greatly  attached  to  him,  for  he  sympathized  in  all  their 
affairs  as  warmly  as  a  brother,  and  was  constantly  doing  them 
some  "  good  turn."  When  with  them  off  duty,  he  dropped 


28  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

every  indication  of  rank,  and  was  as  much  a  boy  as  the  youngest 
of  them — playing  marbles,  quoits,  or  snowball,  with  perfect 
abandon  and  enjoyment.  Most  charming  of  all  in  the  eyes  of 
those  gentlemen  was  the  fact  that  he  would  not  hesitate  to 
decline  invitations  to  entertainments,  on  the  plainly  stated 
ground  that  "  his  staff  were  not  included" — after  which  I  need 
give  myself  no  further  trouble  to  explain  why  he  was  the  most 
beloved  of  generals ! 

I  have  spoken  of  his  reckless  exposure  of  his  person  in  bat 
tle.  It  would  convey  a  better  idea  of  his  demeanour  under  fire 
to  say  that  he  seemed  unaware  of  the  presence  of  danger.  This 
air  of  indifference  was  unmistakable.  When  brave  men  were 
moving  restlessly,  or  unconsciously  "  ducking  "  to  avoid  the  bul 
lets  showering  around  them,  Stuart  sat  his  horse,  full  front  to 
the  fire,  with  head  up,  form  unmoved — a  statue  of  unconscious 
ness.  It  would  be  difficult  to  conceive  of  a  greater  coolness  and 
indifference  than  he  exhibited.  The  hiss  of  balls,  striking  down 
men  around  him,  or  cutting  off  locks  of  his  hair  and  piercing 
his  clothes,  as  at  Fredericksburg,  did  not  seem  to  attract  his  at 
tention.  With  shell  bursting  right  in  his  face  and  maddening 
his  horse,  he  appeared  to  be  thinking  of  something  else.  In 
other  men  what  is  called  "gallantry''  is  generally  seen  to  be  the 
effect  of  a  strong  will ;  in  Stuart  it  seemed  the  result  of  indiffer 
ence.  A  stouter-hearted  cavalier  could  not  be  imagined ;  and  if 
his  indifference  gave  way,  it  was  generally  succeeded  by  gaiety. 
Sometimes,  however,  all  the  tiger  was  aroused  in  him.  His  face 
flushed ;  his  eyes  darted  flame ;  his  voice  grew  hoarse  and  stri 
dent.  This  occurred  in  the  hot  fight  of  Fleetwood  Hill,  in  June, 
1863,  when  he  was  almost  surrounded  by  the  heavy  masses  of 
the  enemy's  cavalry,  and  very  nearly  cut  off;  and  again  near 
Upperville,  later  in  the  same  year,  when  he  was  driven  back, 
foot  by  foot,  to  the  Blue  Eidge.  Stuart's  face  was  stormy  at 
such  moments,  and  his  eyes  like  "  a  devouring  fire."  His  voice 
was  curt,  harsh,  imperious,  admitting  no  reply.  The  veins  in 
his  forehead  grew  black,  and  the  man  looked  "  dangerous."  If 
an  officer  failed  him  at  such  moments,  he  never  forgave  him ;  as 
the  man  who  attracted  his  attention,  or  who  volunteered  for  a 


STUART.  29 

forlorn  hope,  was  never  forgotten.  In  his  tenacious  memory, 
Stuart  registered  everybody ;  and  in  his  command,  his  word,  bad 
or  good,  largely  set  up  or  pulled  down. 

To  dwell  still  for  a  few  moments  upon  the  private  and  per 
sonal  character  of  the  man — he  possessed  some  accomplishments 
unusual  in  famous  soldiers.  He  was  an  excellent  writer,  and  his 
general  orders  were  frequently  very  striking  for  their  point  and 
eloquence.  That  in  which  he  called  on  his  men  after  the  ride 
around  McClellan  to  "  avenge  Latane ! "  and  that  on  the  death 
of  Major  Pelham,  his  chief  of  artillery,  are  good  examples. 
There  was  something  of  the  Napoleonic  fervour  in  these  compo 
sitions,  and,  though  dashed  off  rapidly,  they  were  pointed,  cor 
rect,  and  without  bombast.  His  letters,  when  collected,  will  be 
found  clear,  forcible,  and  often  full  of  grace,  elegance,  and  wit. 
He  occasionally  wrote  verses,  especially  parodies,  for  which  he 
had  a  decided  turn.  Some  of  these  were  excellent.  His  letters, 
verses,  and  orders,  were  the  genuine  utterances  of  the  man  ;  not 
laboured  or  "stiff,"  but  spontaneous,  flowing,  and  natural.  He 
had  in  conversation  some  humour,  but  more  wit ;  and  of  badinage 
it  might  almost  be  said  that  he  was  a  master.  His  repartee  was 
excellent,  his  address  ever  gay  and  buoyant,  and  in  whatever 
society  he  was  thrown  he  never  seemed  to  lose  that  unaffected 
mirthfulness  which  charms  us  "more  perhaps  than  all  other  quali 
ties  in  an  associate.  I  need  scarcely  add  that  this  uniform  gaiety 
was  never  the  result  of  the  use  of  stimulants.  Stuart  never  drank 
a  single  drop  of  any  intoxicating  liquid  in  his  whole  life,  ex 
cept  when  he  touched  to  his  lips  the  cup  of  sacramental  wine  at 
the  communion.  He  made  that  promise  to  his  mother  in  his 
childhood,  and  never  broke  it.  "If  .ever  I  am  wounded,"  he 
said  to  me  one  day,  "don't  let  them  give  me  any  whiskey  or 
brandy."  His  other  habits  were  as  exemplary.  I  never  saw  him 
touch  a  card,  and  he  never  dreamed  of  uttering  an  oath  under 
any  provocation — nor  would  he  permit  it  at  his  quarters.  He 
attended  church  whenever  he  could,  and  sometimes,  though  not 
often,  had  service  at  his  headquarters.  One  day  a  thoughtless 
officer,  who  did  not  "  know  his  man,"  sneered  at  preachers  in  his 
presence,  and  laughed  at  some  one  who  had  entered  the  minis- 


30  WEARING  OF  THE  GKAY. 

try.  Stuart's  face  flashed;  he  exhibited  unmistakable  dis 
pleasure,  and  said  :  "  I  regard  the  calling  of  a  clergyman  as  the 
noblest  in  which  any  human  being  can  engage."  This  was  the 
frivolous,  irreverent,  hard-drinking  personage  of  some  people's 
fancies — the  man  who  was  sneered  at  as  little  better  than  a 
reprobate  by  those  whom  he  had  punished,  and  who,  therefore, 
hated  and  slandered  him! 

IY. 

Such,  in  brief  outline,  was  this  "  Flower  of  Cavaliers,"  as  he 
moved  in  private,  before  the  eyes  of  friends,  and  lived  his  life 
of  gentleman.  An  estimate  of  the  military  and  intellectual 
calibre  of  the  man  remains  to  be  made — a  rapid  delineation  of 
those  traits  of  brain  and  nerve  combined  which  made  him  the 
first  cavalry  officer  of  his  epoch — I  had  nearly  written  of  any 
epoch. 

Out  of  his  peculiar  sphere  he  did  not  display  marked 
ability.  His  mind  was  naturally  shrewd,  and,  except  in  some 
marked  instances,  he  appeared  to  possess  an  instinctive  know 
ledge  of  men.  But  the  processes  of  his  brain,  on  ordinary  occa 
sions,  exhibited  rather  activity  and  force  than  profoundness  of 
insight.  His  mental  organization,  seemed  to  be  sound  and  prac 
tical  rather  than  deep  and  comprehensive.  He  read  little  when 
I  knew  him,  and  betrayed  no  evidences  of  wide  culture.  His 
education  was  that  of  the  gentleman  rather  than  the  scholar. 
"Napoleon's  Maxims,"  a  translation  of  Jomini's  Treatise  on 
War,  and  one  or  two  similar  works,  were  all  in  which  he 
appeared  to  take  pleasure.  His  whole  genius  evidently  lay  in 
the  direction  of  his  profession,  and  even  here  many  persons 
doubted  the  versatility  of  his  faculties.  It  will  remain  an  inte 
resting  problem  whether  he  would  have  made  a  great  infantry 
commander.  He  was  confident  of  his  own  ability ;  always 
resented  the  dictum  that  he  was  a  mere  "  cavalry  officer;  "  and  I 
believe,  at  one  time,  it  was  the  purpose  of  the  Confederate  author 
ities  to  place  him  in  command  of  a  corps  of  infantry.  Upon 
the  question  of  his  capacity,  in  this  sphere,  there  will  probably 


STUART.  31 

be  many  opinions.  At  Chancellorsville,  when  lie  succeeded 
Jackson,  the  troops,  although  quite  enthusiastic  about  him,  com 
plained  that  he  had  led  them  too  recklessly  against  artillery; 
and  it  is  hard  for  those  who  knew  the  man  to  believe  that,  as  an 
army  commander,  he  would  ever  have  consented  to  a  strictly 
defensive  campaign.  Fighting  was  a  necessity  of  his  blood,  and 
the  slow  movements  of  infantry  did  not  suit  his  genius.  With 
an  army  under  him,  it  is  probable  that  he  would  either  have 
achieved  magnificent  successes  -or  sustained  overwhelming 
defeats.  I  confess  I  thought  him  equal  to  anything  in  his  pro 
fession,  but  competent  judges  doubted  it.  What  every  one 
agreed  about,  however,  was  his  supreme  genius  for  fighting 
cavalry. 

He  always  seemed  to  me  to  be  intended  by  nature  for  this 
branch  of  the  service.  Some  men  are  born  to  write  great  works, 
others  to  paint  great  pictures,  others  to  rule  over  nations.  Stuart 
was  born  to  fight  cavalry.  It  was  only  necessary  to  be  with  him 
in  important  movements  or  on  critical  occasions,  to  realize  this. 
His  instinct  was  unfailing,  his  coup  d'oeil  that  of  the  master.  He 
was  a  trained  soldier,  and  had  truly  graduated  at  West  Point, 
but  it  looked  like  instinct  rather  than  calculation — that  rapid 
and  unerring  glance  which  took  in  at  once  every  trait  of  the 
ground  upon  which  he  was  operating,  and  anticipated  every 
movement  of  his  adversary.  I  never  knew  him  to  blunder. 
His  glance  was  as  quick,  and  reached  its  mark  as  surely  as  the 
lightning.  Action  followed  like  the  thunder.  In  moments  of 
great  emergency  it  was  wonderful  to  see  how  promptly  he  swept 
the  whole  field,  and  how  quickly  his  mind  was  made  up.  He 
seemed  to  penetrate,  as  by  a  species  of  intuition,  every  design 
of  his  opponent,  and  his  dispositions  for  attack  or  defence  were 
those  of  a  master-mind.  Sometimes  nothing  but  his  unconquer 
able  resolution,  and  a  sort  of  desperation,  saved  him  from 
destruction ;  but  in  almost  every  critical  position  which  he  was 
placed  in  during  that  long  and  arduous  career,  it  was  his  won 
derful  acumen,  no  less  than  his  unshrinking  nerve,  which 
brought  him  out  victorious. 

This  nerve  had  in  it  something  splendid  and  chivalric.     It 


82  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

never  failed  him  for  a  moment  on  occasions  which  would  have 
paralysed  ordinary  commanders.  An  instance  was  given  in 
October,  1863.  Near  Auburn  his  column  was  surrounded  by 
the  whole  of  General  Meade's  army,  then  retiring  before  Gene 
ral  Lee.  Stuart  massed  his  command,  kept  cool,  listened  hour 
after  hour  as  the  night  passed  on,  to  the  roll  of  the  Federal 
artillery  and  the  heavy  tramp  of  their  infantry  within  a  few 
hundred  yards  of  him,  and  at  daylight  placed  his  own  guns  in 
position  and  made  a  furious  attack,  under  cover  of  which  he 
safely  withdrew.  An  earlier  instance  was  his  raid  in  rear  of 
General  McClellan,  in  June,  1862,  when,  on  reaching  the  lower 
Chickahominy,  he  found  the  stream  swollen  and  unfordable, 
while  at  every  moment  an  enraged  enemy  threatened  to  fall 
upon  his  rear  with  an  overpowering  force  of  infantry,  cavalry, 
and  artillerjr.  Although  the  men  were  much  disheartened,  and 
were  gloomy  enough  at  the  certain  fate  which  seemed  to  await 
them,  Stuart  remained  cool  and  unmoved.  He  intended,  he  said 
afterwards,  to  "  die  game  "  if  attacked,  but  he  believed  he  could 
extricate  his  command.  In  four  hours  he  had  built  a  bridge, 
singing  as  he  worked  with  the  men ;  and  his  column,  with  the 
guns,  defiled  across  just  as  the  enemy  rushed  on  them.  A  third 
instance  was  the  second  ride  around  McClellan  in  Maryland, 
October,  1862;  when  coming  to  the  Monocacy  he  found  General 
Pleasanton,  with  a  heavy  force  of  cavalry,  infantry,  and  artillery, 
in  his  path,  but  unhesitatingly  attacked  and  cut  his  way  through. 
Still  another  at  Jack's  Shop,  where  he  charged  both  ways — the 
column  in  front,  and  that  sent  to  cut  him  off — and  broke 
through.  Still  another  at  Fleetwood  Hill,  where  he  was 
attacked  in  front,  flank,  and  rear,  by  nearly  17,000  infantry  and 
cavalry,  but  charging  from  the  centre  outwards,  swept  them 
back,  and  drove  them  beyond  the  Rappahannock. 

Upon  these  occasions  and  twenty  others,  nothing  but  his  stout 
nerve  saved  him  from  destruction.  This  quality,  however, 
would  not  have  served  him  without  the  quick  military  instinct 
of  the  born  soldier.  His  great  merit  as  a  commander  was,  that 
his  conception  of  "the  situation"  was  as  rapid  and  just  as  his 
nerve  was  steady.  His  execution  was  unfaltering,  but  the  brain 


STUART.  33 

had  devised  clearly  what  was  to  be  done  before  the  arm  was 
raised  to  strike.  It  was  this  which  distinguished  Stuart  from 
others — the  promptness  and  accuracy  of  his  brain  work  "  under 
pressure,"  and  at  moments  when  delay  was  destruction.  The 
faculty  would  have  achieved  great  results  in  any  department  of 
arms ;  but  in  cavalry,  the  most  "  sudden  and  dangerous  "  branch 
of  the  service,  where  everything  is  decided  in  a  moment  as  it 
were,  it  made  Stuart  one  of  the  first  soldiers  of  his  epoch. 
With  equal — or  not  largely  unequal — forces  opposed  to  him,  he 
was  never  whipped.  More  than  once  he  was  driven  back,  and 
two  or  three  times  "  badly  hurt ; "  but  it  was  not  the  superior 
genius  of  Buford,  Stoneman,  Pleasanton,  or  other  adversaries, 
which  achieved  those  results.  It  was  the  presence  of  an  obstacle 
which  his  weapon  could  not  break.  Numbers  were  too  much 
for  brain  and  acumen,  and  reckless  fighting.  The  hammer  was 
shattered  by  the  anvil. 

Y. 

Stuart  was  forced,  by  the  necessities  of  the  struggle,  the  nature 
of  the  country,  and  the  all-work  he  had  to  perform,  to  depend 
much  upon  sharp-shooting.  But  he  preferred  pure  cavalry 
fighting.  He  fought  his  dismounted  skirmishers  with  obstinacy, 
and  was  ever  present  with  them,  riding  along  the  line,  a  conspi 
cuous  target  for  the  enemy's  bullets,  cheering  them  on.  But  it 
was  in  the  legitimate  sphere  of  cavalry  that  he  was  greatest. 
The  skirmishing  was  the  "  hard  work."  He  had  thus  to  keep 
a  dangerous  enemy  off  General  Lee's  flanks  as  the  infantry 
moved  through  the  gaps  of  the  Blue  Ridge  towards  Pennsylvania, 
or  to  defend  the  line  of  the  Rappahannock,  when  some  Federal 
commander  with  thousands  of  horsemen,  "  came  down  like  a 
wolf"  on  General  Lee's  little  "fold."  It  was  here,  I  think,  that 
Stuart  vindicated  his  capacity  to  fight  infantry,  for  such  were 
the  dismounted  cavalry  ;  and  he  held  his  ground  before  swarm 
ing  enemies  with  a  nerve  and  persistence  which  resembled  Jack 
son's. 

It  was  in  the  raid,  the  flank  movement,  the  charge,  and  the 

3 


34  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

falling  back,  with,  cavalry  proper,  however,  that  he  exhibited  the 
most  conspicuous  traits  of  the  soldier.  The  foundation  of  his 
successes  here  was  a  wonderful  energy.  The  man  was  a  war- 
machine  which  never  flagged.  Day  or  night  he  was  ready  to 
mount  at  the  sound  of  the  bugle.  Other  commanders,  like  the 
bonus  Homerus,  drowsed  at  times,  and  nodded,  suffering  their 
zeal  to  droop ;  but  Stuart  was  sleepless,  and  General  Lee  could 
count  on  him  at  any  instant.  To  that  inexhaustible  physical 
strength  was  united  a  mentality  as  untiring.  The  mind,  like  the 
body,  could  "  go  day  and  night,"  and  needed  no  rest.  When  all 
around  him  were  broken  down,  Stuart  still  remained  fresh  and 
unwearied ;  ready  for  council  or  for  action ;  to  give  his  views 
and  suggest  important  movements,  or  to  march  and  make  an 
attack.  His  organization  was  of  the  "hair-trigger"  kind,  and 
the  well-tempered  spring  never  lost  its  elasticity.  He  would 
give  orders,  and  very  judicious  ones,  in  his  sleep — as  on  the 
night  of  the  second  Manassas.  "When  utterly  prostrated  by 
whole  days  and  nights  spent  in  the  saddle,  he  would  stop  by  the 
roadside,  lie  down  without  pickets  or  videttes,  even  in  an  enemy's 
country — as  once  he  did  coming  from  Carlisle,  Pennsylvania,  in 
July,  1863 — sleep  for  an  hour,  wrapped  in  his  cape  and  resting 
against  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  and  then  mount  again,  as  fresh 
apparently,  as  if  he  had  slumbered  from  sunset  to  dawn. 

As  his  physical  energies  thus  never  seemed  to  droop,  or 
sprang  with  a  rebound  from  the  weight  on  them,  so  he  never 
desponded.  A  stouter  heart  in  the  darkest  hour  I  have  never 
seen.  No  clouds  could  depress  him  or  disarm  his  courage.  He 
met  ill-fortune  with  a  smile,  and  drove  it  before  him  with  his 
gallant  laughter.  Gloom  could  not  live  in  his  presence,  and  the 
whole  race  of  "  croakers  "  were  shamed  into  hopefulness  by  his 
inspiring  words  and  demeanour.  Defeat  and  disaster  seemed  to 
make  him  stronger  and  more  resolute,  and  he  rose  under 
pressure.  In  moments  of  the  most  imminent  peril  to  the  very 
existence  of  his  command,  I  have  seen  him  drum  carelessly  with 
his  fingers  on  the  knee  thrown  over  the  pommel  of  his  saddle, 
reflect  for  an  instant  without  any  trace  of  excitement,  and  then 
give  the  order  to  cut  a  path  through  the  enemy,  without  the 


STUART.  35 

change  of  a  muscle.  At  such  moments,  it  was  plain  that  Stuart 
coolly  made  up  his  mind  to  do  his  best,  and  leave  the  rest  to  the 
chances  of  arms.  His  manner  said  as  plainly  as  any  word  :  "I 
am  going  to  make  my  way  out  or  die — the  thing  is  decided  upon 
— why  make  a  to-do  about  it  ?  "  So  perfect  was  his  equanimity 
upon  such  occasions,  that  persons  ignorant  of  the  extent  of  the 
peril  could  not  realize  that  any  existed.  It  was  hard  to  believe, 
in  presence  of  this  a  heart  of  oak,"  with  his  cool  and  indifferent 
manner,  his  composed  tones  and  careless  smile,  that  death  or 
capture  stared  the  command  in  the  face.  And  yet  these  were 
just  the  occasions  when  Stuart's  face  of  bronze  was  most  un 
moved.  Peril  brought  out  his  strength.  The  heaviest  clouds 
must  obscure  the  landscape  before  his  splendid  buoyancy  and 
"  heart  of  hope  "  were  fully  revealed.  That  stout  heart  seemed 
invincible,  and  impending  ruin  could  not  shake  it.  I  have  seen 
him  strung,  aroused,  his  eye  flaming,  his  voice  hoarse  with  the 
mingled  joy  and  passion  of  battle ;  but  have  never  seen  him 
flurried  or  cast  down,  much  less  paralysed  by  a  disaster.  When 
not  rejoicing  like  the  hunter  on  the  traces  of  the  game,  he  was 
cool,  resolute,  and  determined,  evidently  "  to  do  or  die."  The 
mens  cequa  in  arduis  shone  in  the  piercing  blue  eye,  and  his  un 
daunted  bearing  betrayed  a  soul  which  did  not  mean  to  yield — 
which  might  be  crushed  and  shattered,  but  would  not  bend. 
"When  pushed  hard  and  hunted  down  by  a  swarm  of  foes,  as  he 
was  more  than  once,  Stuart  presented  a  splendid  spectacle.  He 
met  the  assault  like  an  athlete  of  the  Roman  amphitheatre,  and 
fought  with  the  ferocity  of  a  tiger.  He  looked  "dangerous" 
at  such  moments ;  and  those  adversaries  who  knew  him  best, 
advanced  upon  their  great  opponent  thus  standing  at  bay,  with  a 
caution  which  was  born  of  experience. 

These  observations  apply  with  especial  justice  to  the  various 
occasions  when  Stuart  held  with  his  cavalry  cordon  the  country 
north  of  the  Rap  pah  an  nock  and  east  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  while 
General  Lee  either  advanced  or  retired  through  the  gaps  of  the 
mountains.  The  work  which  he  did  here  will  remain  among  his 
most  important  services.  He  is  best  known  to  the  world  by  his 
famous  "  raids,"  as  they  were  erroneously  called,  by  his  circuits 


36  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

of  McClellan's  army  in  Virginia  and  in  Maryland,  and  other 
movements  of  a  similar  character.  This,  however,  was  not  his 
great  work.  He  will  live  in  history  as  the  commander  of  Lee's 
cavalry,  and  for  the  great  part  he  played  in  that  leader's  most 
important  movements.  What  Lee  designed  when  he  moved 
Northward,  or  fell  back  from  the  valley,  it  was  a  matter  of  the 
utmost  interest  to  the  enemy  to  know,  and  persistent  efforts  were 
made  by  them  to  strike  the  Confederate  flank  and  discover. 
Stuart  was,  however,  in  the  way  with  his  cavalry.  The  road  to 
the  Blue  Ridge  was  obstructed ;  and  somewhere  near  Middleburg, 
Upperville,  or  Paris,  the  advancing  column  would  find  the 
wary  cavalier.  Then  took  place  an  obstinate,  often  desperate 
struggle — on  Stuart's  part  to  hold  his  ground ;  on  the  enemy's 
part  to  break  through  the  cordon.  Crack  troops — infantry, 
cavalry,  and  artillery— were  sent  upon  this  important  work, 
and  the  most  determined  officers  of  the  United  States  Army 
commanded  them. 

Then  came  the  tug  of  war.  Stuart  must  meet  whatever  force 
was  brought  against  him,  infantry  as  well  as  cavalry,  and  match 
himself  with  the  best  brains  of  the  Federal  army  in  command 
of  them.  It  was  often  "  diamond  cut  diamond."  In  the  fields 
around  Upperville,  and  everywhere  along  the  road  to  Ashby's 
Gap,  raged  a  war  of  giants.  The  infantry  on  both  sides  heard 
the  distant  roar  of  the  artillery  crowning  every  hill,  and  thought 
the  cavalry  was  skirmishing  a  little.  The  guns  were  only  the 
signal  of  a  hand-to-hand  struggle.  Desperate  charges  were 
made  upon  them ;  sabres  clashed,  carbines  banged ;  in  one 
great  hurly-burly  of  rushing  horses,  ringing  sabres,  cracking 
pistols,  and  shouts  which  deafened,  the  opposing  columns  clashed 
together.  If  Stuart  broke  them,  he  pressed  them  hotty,  and 
never  rested  until  he  swept  them  back  for  miles.  If  the}^  broke 
Stuart,  he  fell  back  with  the  obstinate  ferocity  of  a  bull- dog; 
•fought  with  his  sharpshooters  in  every  field,  with  his  Horse  Ar 
tillery  upon  every  knoll ;  and  if  they  "  crowded  him  "  too  closely 
he  took  command  of  his  column,  and  went  at  them  with  the 
sabre,  resolved  to  repulse  them  or  die.  It  was  upon  this  great 
theatre  that  he  displayed  all  his  splendid  faculties  of  nerve, 


STUART.  37 

judgment,  dash,  and  obstinacy — his  quickness  of  conception, 
rapidity  of  decision,  and  that  fire  of  onset  before  which  few 
opponents  could  stand.  The  infantry  did  not  know  much  about 
these  hot  engagements,  and  cherished  the  flattering  view  that  they 
did  all  the  fighting.  General  Lee,  however,  knew  accurately 
what  was  done,  and  what  was  not  clone.  In  Spotsylvania,  after 
Stuart's  fall,  he  exclaimed:  "If  Stuart  only  were  here!  I  can 
scarcely  think  of  him  without  weeping." 

The  great  cavalier  had  protected  the  Southern  flanks  upon  a 
hundred  movements  ;  guarded  the  wings  upon  many  battle-fields, 
penetrated  the  enemy's  designs,  and  given  General  Lee  informa 
tion  in  every  campaign ;  and  now  when  the  tireless  brain  was 
still,  and  the  piercing  eyes  were  dim,  the  country  began  to  com 
prehend  the  full  extent  of  the  calamity  at  Yellow  Tavern,  in 
May,  1864,  and  to  realize  the  irreparable  loss  sustained  by  the 
cause  when  this  bulwark  fell. 

VI. 

I  have  noticed  Stuart's  stubbornness,  nerve,  and  coolness.  His 
dash  and  impetuosity  in  the  charge  have  scarcely  been  alluded 
to,  and  yet  it  was  these  characteristics  of  the  man  which  chiefly 
impressed  the  public  mind.  On  a  former  page  he  has  been  com 
pared  to  Rupert,  the  darling  of  love  and  war,  who  was  never  so 
well  satisfied  as  when  dashing  against  the  Roundhead  pikes  and 
riding  down  his  foes.  Stuart  seems  to  have  inherited  that  trait 
of  the  family  blood — for  it  seems  tolerably  well  established  that 
he  and  Rupert  were  descended  from  the  same  stock,  and  scions 
of  that  family  which  has  given  to  the  world  men  of  brain  and 
courage,  as  well  as  faineans  and  libertines.  To  notice  briefly 
this  not  uninteresting  point,  the  "family  likeness"  in  the  traits 
of  Stuart  and  Prince  Rupert  is  very  curious.  Both  were  utterly 
devoted  to  a  principle  which  was  their  life-blood — in  Rupert  it 
was  the  love  of  royalty,  in  Stuart  the  love  of  Virginia.  Both 
were  men  of  the  most  impetuous  temper,  chafing  at  opposition, 
and  ready  at  any  instant  to  match  themselves  against  their  adver 
saries,  and  conquer  or  die.  Both  were  devoted  to  the  "  love  of 


38  WEARING    OF  THE    GRAY. 

ladies,"  gallant  to  the  echo ;  of  a  proud  and  splendid  loyalty  to 
their  word ;  of  unshrinking  courage ;  kind  and  compassionate 
in  temper,  gay  and  smiling  in  address ;  fonder  of  fighting  than 
of  looking  to  the  commissariat ;  adored  by  their  men,  who 
approached  them  without  fear  of  a  repulse  ;  cavalry-men  in  every 
drop  of  their  blood;  fond  of  brilliant  colours,  splendid  pageants, 
the  notes  of  the  bugle,  the  glitter  of  arms :  Kupert  with  his 
snowy  plume,  Stuart  with  his  black  one  ; — both  throwing  over 
their  shoulders  capes  of  dazzling  scarlet,  unworn  by  men  who 
are  not  attached  to  gay  colours ;  both  taking  a  white  dog  for  a 
pet ;  both  proud,  gay,  unswerving,  indomitable,  disdainful  of 
low  things,  passionately  devoted  to  glory ;  both  men  in  brain 
and  character  at  an  age  when  others  are  mere  boys ;  both  famous 
before  thirty — and  for  ever — such  were  the  points  of  resemblance 
between  these  two  men.  Those  familiar  with  the  character  of 
the  greatest  cavalry-man  of  the  English  struggle,  and  with  the 
traits  of  Stuart,  the  most  renowned  of  the  recent  conflict,  will 
not  fail  to  see  the  likeness. 

But  I  pass  to  "  Stuart  in  the  charge."  Here  the  man  was 
superb.  It  was  in  attack,  after  all,  that  his  strongest  faculties 
were  exhibited.  Indeed,  the  whole  genius  and  temperament  of 
the  Virginian  were  for  advancing,  not  retreating.  He  could  fall 
back  stubbornly,  as  has  been  shown  ;  and  he  certainly  did  so  in 
a  masterly  manner,  disputing  every  inch  of  ground  with  his 
adversary,  and  giving  way  to  an  enemy's  advance  under  bloody 
protest.  At  these  times  he  displayed  the  obstinate  temper  of  the 
old  Ironsides  of  Cromwell,  when  they  retired  in  serried  ranks, 
ready  to  turn  as  they  slowly  retreated,  and  draw  blood  with  their 
iron  claws.  But  when  advancing  upon  an  adversary — more 
than  all  in  the  impetuous  charge — Stuart  was  no  longer  the 
Bound  head ;  he  was  the  Cavalier.  Cavalier  he  was  by  birth 
and  breeding  and  temperament ;  and  he  sprang  to  meet  an 
enemy,  as  Rupert  drove  forward  in  the  hot  struggle  of  the  past 
in  England.  You  could  see,  then,  that  Stuart  was  in  his  ele 
ment.  Once  having  formed  his  column  for  the  charge,  and  given 
his  ringing  order  to  "  Form  in  fours  !  draw  sabre  !  "  it  was  neck 
or  nothing.  When  he  thus  "  came  to  the  sabre,"  there  was  no 


STUART.  39 

such  word  as  fail  with  him.  Once  in  motion  to  hurl  his  column 
against  his  adversary,  he  seemed  to  act  upon  the  Scriptural  pre 
cept  to  forget  those  things  which  were  behind,  and  press  on  to 
those  which  were  before.  That  was  the  enemy  in  front ;  and  to 
ride  over,  and  cut  right  and  left  among  them,  was  the  work 
before  him.  At  such  moments  there  was  something  grand  in 
the  magnificent  fire  and  rush  of  the  soldier.  He  seemed  strong 
enough  to  ride  down  a  world.  Only  a  glance  was  needed  to 
tell  you  that  this  man  had  made  up  his  mind  to  break  through 
and  trample  under  foot  what  opposed  him,  or  "die  trying." 
His  men  knew  this ;  and,  when  he  took  personal  command  of 
the  column,  as  he  most  often  did,  prepared  for  tough  work.  His 
occasional  roughness  of  address  to  both  officers  and  men  had  made 
him  bitter  enemies,  but  the  admiration  which  he  aroused  was 
unbounded.  The  men  were  often  heard  to  say,  in  critical  places  : 
"  There  goes  old  Jeb  to  the  front,  boys ;  it's  all  right."  And  an 
officer  whom  he  had  offended,  and  who  hated  him  bitterly, 
declared  with  an  oath  that  he  was  the  greatest  cavalry  com 
mander  that  had  ever  lived.  The  reported  words  of  General 
Sedgwick,  of  the  United  States  Army,  may  be  added  here : 
"  Stuart  is  the  greatest  cavalry  officer  ever  foaled  in  North 
America." 

The  impetuosity  here  noted  was  undoubtedly  one  of  the  most 
striking  traits  of  the  man.  In  a  charge,  Stuart  seemed  on  fire, 
and  was  more  the  Chief  of  Squadron  than  the  Corps  Commander. 
He  estimated  justly  his  own  value  as  a  fighting  man,  when  he 
said  one  day :  "  My  proper  place  would  be  major  of  artil 
lery  ;  "  and  it  is  certain  that  in  command  of  a  battalion  of  field- 
pieces,  he  would  have  fought  until  the  enemy  were  at  the  very 
muzzles  of  his  guns.  But  in  the  cavalry  he  had  even  a  better 
field  for  his  love  of  close  fighting.  To  come  to  the  sabre  best 
suited  his  fiery  organization,  and  he  did  come  to  it,  personally, 
on  many  occasions.  He  preferred  saying,  "  Come  on  "  to  "  Go 
on."  The  men  declared  that  he  was  reckless,  but  no  one  could 
say  that  he  had  ever  sent  his  column  where  he  was  not  ready  to 
go  himself.  If  he  made  a  headlong  and  determined  attack  upon 
an  overpowering  force — a  thing  common  with  him — he  was  in 


40  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

front  himself,  or  fighting  among  the  men.  He  never  seemed  to 
feel,  as  far  as  my  observation  went,  that  his  life  was  any  more 
valuable  than  that  of  the  humblest  private  soldier.  After  one 
of  these  occasions  of  reckless  exposure  of  himself,  I  said  to  him : 
"  General,  you  ought  not  to  put  yourself  in  the  way  of  the 
bullets  so ;  some  day  you  will  be  killed."  He  sighed  and 
replied:  "Oh,  I  reckon  not;  but  if  I  am,  they  will  easily  find 
somebody  to  fill  my  place."  He  had  evidently  determined  to 
spend  and  be  spent  in  the  Southern  struggle,  which  had  aroused 
his  most  passionate  sympathies.  This  love  of  native  land  came 
to  add  a  magnificent  fervour  to  the  natural  combativeness  of  the 
man.  As  a  "  free  lance,"  Stuart  would  have  been  careless  of 
his  person ;  but  in  the  Southern  struggle  he  was  utterly 
reckless. 

This  indifference  to  danger  was  evidently  a  trait  of  blood,  and 
wholly  unaffected.  Nor,  for  a  long  time,  did  his  incessant  expo 
sure  of  himself  bring  him  so  much  as  a  scratch.  On  all  the 
great  battle-fields  of  Virginia,  Maryland,  and  Pennsylvania,  as 
well  as  in  the  close  and  bitter  conflicts  of  his  cavalry  at  Fleet- 
wood,  Auburn,  Upperville,  Middleburg,  South  Mountain, 
Monocacy,  Williamsport,  Shepherdstown,  Paris,  Barbee's,  Jef- 
fersonton,  Culpeper  Court-House,  Brandy,  Kelly's  Ford.  Spot- 
sylvania — in  these,  and  a  hundred  other  hotly-contested  actions, 
he  was  in  the  very  thickest  of  the  fight,  cheering  on  the  sharp 
shooters,  directing  his  artillery,  or  leading  his  column  in  the 
charge,  but  was  never  hurt.  Horses  were  shot  under  him,  bul 
lets  struck  his  equipments,  pierced  his  clothes,  or  cut  off  curls  of 
his  hair,  as  at  Fredericksburg,  but  none  ever  wounded  him.  In 
the  closest  melee  of  clashing  sabres  the  plume  of  Stuart  was 
unscathed ;  no  sword's  edge  ever  touched  him.  He  seemed  to 
possess  a  charmed  life,  and  to  be  invulnerable,  like  Achilles. 
Shell,  canister,  and  round-shot  tore  their  way  through,  the  ranks 
around  him,  overthrowing  men  and  horses — many  a  brave  fellow 
at  his  side  fell,  pierced  by  the  hissing  bullets  of  Federal  carbines — 
but  Stuart,  like  Kupert,  never  received  a  wound.  The  ball 
which  struck  and  laid  him  low  at  the  Yellow  Tavern  on  that 
black  day  of  May,  1864,  was  the  first  which  touched  him  in  the 


STUART.  41 

war.     In  a  hundred  battles  they  had  passed  to  the  left  and  right 
of  him,  sparing  him. 

VII. 

The  foregoing  presents  as  accurate  an  outline  of  Stuart  as  the 
present  writer,  after  a  close  association  with  him  for  two  or  three 
years,  could  draw.  No  trait  is  feigned  or  fanciful,  and  the  pic 
ture  is  not  exaggerated,  though  it  may  seem  so  to  some.  The 
organization  of  this  man  was  exceptional  and  very  remarkable. 
The  picture  seems  a  fancy  piece,  perhaps,  but  it  is  the  actual 
portrait.  The  gaiety,  nerve,  courage,  dash,  and  stubborn  reso 
lution  of  that  man  were  as  great  as  here  described.  These  were 
the  actual  traits  which  made  him  fill  so  great  a  space  in  the  pub 
lic  eye ;  and  as  what  he  effected  was  not  "  done  in  a  corner,"  so 
what  he  was  became  plain  to  all. 

He  was  hated  bitterly  by  some  who  had  felt  the  weight  of  his 
hot  displeasure  at  their  shortcomings,  and  some  of  these  people 
tried,  to  traduce  and  slander  him.  They  said  he  was  idle  and 
negligent  of  his  duties— he,  the  hardest  worker  and  most  wary 
commander  I  ever  saw.  They  said,  in  whispers  behind  his 
back — in  that  tone  which  has  been  described  as  "  giggle-gabble  " 
— that  he  thought  more  of  dancing,  laughing,  and  trifling  with 
young  ladies  than  of  his  military  work,  when  those  things  were 
only  the  relaxations  of  the  man  after  toil.  They  said  that  ladies 
cpuld  wheedle  and  cajole  him — when  he  arrested  hundreds- 
remained  inexorable  to  their  petitio'ns,  and  meted  out  to  the 
"fairest  eyes  that  ever  have  shone  "  the  strictest  military  justice. 
They  said  that  he  had  w7reaths  of  flowers  around  his  horse,  and 
was  "  frolicking "  with  his  staff  at  Culpeper  C6urt- House,  so 
that  his  headquarters  on  Fleetwood  Hill  were  surprised  and  cap 
tured  in  June,  1863,  when  he  had  not  been  at  the  Court-House 
for  days ;  sent  off  every  trace  of  his  headquarters  at  dawn,  six 
hours  before  the  enemy  advanced ;  and  was  ready  for  them  at 
every  point,  and  drove  them  back  with  heavy  loss  beyond  the 
river.  In  like  manner  the  Sleeks  sneered  at  his  banjo,  sneered 
at  his  gay  laughter,  sneered  at  his  plume,  his  bright  colours,  and 


42  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

his  merry  songs.  The  same  good  friends  invented  stories  of 
rebukes  he  had  incurred  from  General  Lee,  when  he  uniformly 
received  from  that  great  friend  and  commander  the  highest  evi 
dences  of  regard  and  confidence.  These  winged  arrows,  shot  in 
secret  by  the  hand  of  calumny,  which  in  plain  Saxon  are  called 
lies,  accompanied  Stuart  everywhere  at  one  period  of  his  career; 
but  the  Southern  people  could  not  be  brought  to  believe  them. 
They  flushed  the  face  of  the  proud  and  honest  cavalier,  some 
times,  and  made  the  blue  eyes  flash ;  but  what  could  he  do  ? 
The  calumnies  were  nameless  ;  their  authors  slunk  into  shadow, 
and  shrank  from  him.  So  he  ended  by  laughing  at  them,  as  the 
country  did,  and  going  on  his  way  unmindful  of  them.  He 
answered  slander  by  brave  action — calumny  by  harder  work, 
more  reckless  exposure  of  himself,  and  by  grander  achievements. 
Those  secret  enemies  might  originate  the  falsehoods  aimed  at 
him  from  their  safe  refuge  in  some  newspaper  office,  or  behind 
some  other  "  bomb-proof"  shelter — he  would  fight.  That  was 
his  reply  to  them,  and  the  scorn  extinguished  them.  The  honest 
gentleman  and  great  soldier  was  slandered,  and  he  lived  down 
the  slander — righting  it  with  his  sword  and  his  irreproachable 
life,  not  with  his  tongue. 

When  death  came  to  him  in  the  bloom  of  manhood,  and  the 
flush  of  a  fame  which  will  remain  one  of  the  supremest  glories  of 
Virginia,  Stuart  ranked  with  the  .preux  chevalier  Bayard,  the 
knight  "  without  reproach  or  fear." 

The  brief  and  splendid  career  in  which  he  won  his  great 
renown,  and  that  name  of  the  "Flower  of  Cavaliers,"  has 
scarcely  been  touched  on  in  this  rapid  sketch.  The  arduous 
work  which  made  him  so  illustrious  has  not  been  described — I 
have  been  able  to  gwe  only  an  outline  of  the  man.  That  pic 
ture  may  be  rude  and  hasty,  but  it  is  a  likeness.  This  was 
Stuart.  The  reader  must  have  formed  some  idea  of  him,  hasty 
and  brief  as  the  delineation  has  necessarily  been.  I  have  tried 
to  draw  him  as  the  determined  leader,  full  of  fire  and  force ;  the 
stubborn  fighter ;  the  impetuous  cavalier  in  the  charge ;  the,  at 
times,  hasty  and  arrogant,  but  warm-hearted  friend  ;  the  devoted 
Christian,  husband,  and  father ;  the  gayest  of  companions  ;  full 


STUART.  43 

of  fun,  frolic,  laughter,  courage,  hope,  buoyancy,  and  a  certain 
youthful  joyousness  which  made  his  presence  like  the  sunshine. 
Upon  this  last  trait  I  have  dwelt  much — the  youth,  and  joy, 
and  hope,  which  shone  in  his  brilliant  eyes  and  rang  in  his 
sonorous  laughter.  He  passed  before  you  like  an  incarnate 
spring,  all  mirth  and  sunshine ;  but  behind  was  the  lightning. 
In  those  eyes  as  fresh  and  blue  as  the  May  morning,  lurked  the 
storm  and  the  thunderbolt.  Beneath  the  flowers  was  the  hard 
steel  battle-axe.  With  that  weapon  he  struck  like  Coeur  de  Lion, 
and  few  adversaries  stood  before  it.  The  joy,  romance,  and 
splendour  of  the  early  years  of  chivalry  flamed  in  his  regard,  and 
his  brave  blood  drove  him  on  to  combat.  In  the  lists,  at  Game- 
lot,  he  would  have  charged  "before  the  eyes  of  ladies  and  of 
kings,"  like  Arthur ;  on  the  arena  of  the  war  in  Virginia  he  fol 
lowed  his  instincts.  Bright  eyes  were  ever  upon  the  daring 
cavalier  there,  and  his  floating  plume  was  like  Henry  of  Na 
varre's  to  many  stout  horsemen  who  looked  to  him  as  their  chosen 
leader  ;  but,  better  still,  the  eyes  of  Lee  and  Jackson  were  fixed 
on  him  with  fullest  confidence.  Jackson  said,  when  his  wound 
disabled  him  at  Chancellorsville,  and  Stuart  succeeded  him : 
"  Go  back  to  General  Stuart  and  tell  him  to  act  upon  his  own 
judgment,  and  do  what  he  thinks  best — I  have  implicit  confi 
dence  in  him."  In  Spotsylvania,  as  we  have  seen,  General  Lee 
"  could  scarcely  think  of  him  without  weeping."  The  implicit 
confidence  of  Jackson,  and  the  tears  of  Lee,  are  enough  to  fill 
the  measure  of  one  man's  life  and  fame. 

Such  was  Stuart — such  the  figure  which  moved  before  the 
eyes  of  the  Southern  people  for  those  three  years  of  glorious 
encounters,  and  then  fell  like  some  "  monarch  of  the  woods," 
which  makes  the  whole  forest  resound  as  it  crashes  down. 
Other  noble  forms  there  were;  but  that  "heart  of  oak"  of  the 
stern,  hard  fibre,  the  stubborn  grain,  even  where  it  lies  is  might 
iest.  Even  dead. and  crumbled  into  dust,  the  form  of  Stuart 
still  fills  the  eye,  and  the  tallest  dwindle  by  his  side — he  seems 
so  great. 


II. 

JACKSON. 


i. 

AT  five  in  the  evening,  on  the  27th  of  June,  1862,  General 
Stonewall  Jackson  made  his  appearance  on  the  field  of  Cold 
Harbour.  Fresh  from  the  hot  conflicts  of  the  Valley — an 
athlete  covered  with  the  dust  and  smoke  of  the  arena — he  came 
now  with  his  veteran  battalions  to  enter  upon  the  still  more 
desperate  conflicts  of  the  lowland. 

At  that  time  many  persons  asked,  "  Who  is  Jackson  ?  "  All 
we  then  knew  of  the  famous  leader  was  this — that  he  was  born  a 
poor  boy  beyond  the  Alleghanies ;  managed  to  get  to  West 
Point ;  embarked  in  the  Mexican  war  as  lieutenant  of  artillery, 
where  he  fought  his  guns  with  such  obstinacy  that  his  name 
soon  became  renowned  ;  and  then,  retiring  from  active  service, 
became  a  Professor  at  the  Lexington  Military  School.  Here 
the  world  knew  him  only  as  an  eccentric  but  deeply  pious  man, 
and  a  somewhat  commonplace  lecturer.  Stiff  and  rigid  in  his 
pew  at  church,  striding  awkwardly  from  his  study  to  his  lecture- 
room,  ever  serious,  thoughtful,  absent-minded  in  appearance — • 
such  was  the  figure  of  the  future  Lieutenant-General,  the  esti 
mate  of  whose  faculties  by  the  gay  young  students  may  be 
imagined  from  their  nickname  for  him,  "  Fool  Tom  Jackson." 

In  April,  1861,  Fool  Tom  Jackson  became  Colonel  of  Virginia 
volunteers,  and  went  to  Harper's  Ferry,  soon  afterwards  fight 
ing  General  Patterson  at  Falling  Water,  thence  descending  to 
Manassas.  Here  the  small  force — 2,611  muskets — of  Brigadier- 
General  Jackson  saved  the  day.  Without  them  the  Federal 


JACKSON.  45 

column  would  have  flanked  and  routed  Beauregard.  Bee, 
forced  back,  shattered  and  overwhelmed,  galloped  up  to  Jackson 
and  groaned  out,  "General,  they  are  beating  us  back!  "  Jack 
son's  set  face  did  not  move.  "  Sir,"  he  said,  "  we  will  give  them, 
the  bayonet."  Without  those  2,611  muskets  that  morning, 
good-by  to  Beauregard !  In  the  next  year  came  the  Yalley 
campaign ;  the  desperate  and  most  remarkable  fight  at  Kerns- 
town  ;  the  defeat  and  retreat  of  Banks  from  Strasburg  and  Win 
chester  ;  the  retreat,  in  turn,  of  his  great  opponent,  timed  with 
such  mathematical  accuracy,  that  at  Strasburg  he  strikes  with 
his  right  hand  and  his  left  the  columns  of  Fremont  and  Shields, 
closing  in  from  east  and  west  to  destroy  him — strikes  them  and 
passes  through,  continuing  his  retreat  up  the  Valley.  Then 
comes  the  last  scene— finis  coronat.  At  Port  Kepublic  his 
adversaries  strike  at  him  in  two  columns.  He  throws  himself 
against  Fremont  at  Cross  Keys  and  checks  his  advance;  then 
attacks  Shields  beyond  the  river,  and  after  one  of  the  hottest 
battles  of  the  war,  fought  nearly  man  to  man,  defeats  him. 
Troops  never  fought  better  than  the  Federals  there,  but  they 
were  defeated;  and  Jackson,  by  forced  marches,  hastened  to  fall 
upon  McClellan's  right  wing  on  the  Chickahominy. 

These  events  had,  in  June,  1862,  attracted  all  eyes  to  Jackson. 
People  began  to  associate  his  name  with  the  idea  of  unvarying 
success,  and  to  regard  him  as  the  incarnate  genius  of  victory. 
War  seemed  in  his  person  to  have  become  a  splendid  pageant  of 
unceasing  triumph ;  and  from  the  smoke  of  so  many  battle 
fields  rose  before  the  imaginative  public  eye,  the  figure  of  a 
splendid  soldier  on  his  prancing  steed,  with  his  fluttering  banner, 
preceded  by  bugles,  and  advancing  in  all  the  pride,  pomp,  and 
circumstance  of  glorious  war.  The  actual  man  was  somewhat 
different;  and  in  this  sketch  I  shall  try  to  draw  his  outline 
as  he  really  looked.  In  doing  so,  an  apparent  egotism  will  be 
necessary  ;  but  this  may  be  pardoned  as  inseparable  from  the 
subject.  What  men  see  is  more  interesting  than  what  they 
think,  often ;  what  the  writer  saw  of  this  great  man  will  here  be 
recorded. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  of  this  memorable  day,  and  A.  P. 


46  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

Hill  had  just  been  repulsed  with  heavy  slaughter  from  General 
McClellan's  admirable  works  near  New  Cold  Harbour,  when 
the  writer  of  this  was  sent  by  General  Stuart  to  ascertain  if 
Jackson's  corps  had  gone  in,  and  what  were  his  dispositions  for 
battle.  A  group  near  a  log  cabin,  twenty  paces  from  Old  Cold 
Harbour  House,  was  pointed  out  to  me ;  and  going  there,  I  asked 
for  the  General.  Some  one  pointed  to  a  figure  seated  on  a  log 
— dingy,  bending  over,  and  writing  on  his  knees.  A  faded, 
yellow  cap  of  the  cadet  pattern  was  drawn  over  his  eyes  ;  his 
fingers,  holding  a  pencil,  trembled.  His  voice,  in  addressing 
me,  was  brief,  curt,  but  not  uncourteous ;  and  then,  his  dispatch 
having  been  sent,  he  mounted  and  rode  slowly  alone  across 
the  field.  A  more  curious  figure  I  never  saw.  He  sat  his  raw- 
boned  sorrel — not  the  "  old  sorrel,"  however — like  an  automa 
ton.  Knees  drawn  up,  body  leaning  forward ;  the  whole  figure 
stiff,  angular,  unbending.  His  coat  was  the  dingiest  of  the 
dingy  ;  originally  gray,  it  seemed  to  have  brought  away  some 
of  the  dust  and  dirt  of  every  region  in  which  he  had  bivouacked. 
His  faded  cap  was  pulled  down  so  low  upon  the  forehead  that 
he  was  compelled  to  raise  his  chin  into  the  air  to  look  from 
beneath  the  rim.  Under  that  rim  flashed  two  keen  and  piercing 
eyes — dark,  with  a  strange  brilliancy,  and  full  of  "  fight."  The 
nose  was  prominent ;  the  moustache  heavy  upon  the  firm  lip, 
close  set  beneath  ;  the  rough,  brown  beard  did  not  conceal  the 
heavy  fighting  jaw.  All  but  the  eye  was  in  apparent  repose ; 
there  was  no  longer  any  tremor  of  anxiety.  The  soldier  seemed 
to  have  made  all  his  arrangements,  "  done  his  best,"  and  he 
evidently  awaited  the  result  with  entire  coolness.  There  was 
even  something  absent  and  abstracted  in  his  manner,  as  he  rode 
slowly  to  and  fro,  sucking  a  lemon,  and  looking  keenly  at  you 
when  you  spoke,  answering  briefly  when  necessary. 

Twice  more  I  saw  him  that  day — first  in  the  evening,  in  the 
midst  of  a  furious  shelling,  riding  slowly  with  General  Stuart 
among  his  guns ;  his  face  lit  up  by  the  burning  brushwood — a 
face  perfectly  calm  and  unmoved.  And  again  at  midnight, 
when,  as  I  slept  in  a  fence  corner,  I  felt  a  hand  upon  my  shoul 
der,  and  a  voice  said,  "  Where  is  the  General  ?  "  It  was 


JACKSON.  47 

Jackson,  riding  about  by  himself;  and  he  tied  his  horse,  lay 
down  beside  General  Stuart,  and  began  with,  "  Well,  yesterday's 
was  the  most  terrific  fire  of  musketry  I  ever  heard  !  "  Words  of 
unwonted  animation  coming  from  Jackson — that  most  matter-of- 
fact  of  speakers,  and  expressing  much. 

—From  this  time,  Jackson  became  the  idol  of  his  troops  and  the 
country.  Wherever  he  moved  among  the  camps  he  was  met 
by  cheers ;  and  so  unvarying  was  this  reception  of  him,  that  a 
distant  yell  would  often  draw  from  his  men  the  exclamation, 
"  That's  Jackson  or  a  rabbit !  "  the  sight  of  the  soldier  or  the 
appearance  of  a  hare  being  alone  adequate  to  arouse  this  tremen 
dous  excitement.  From  the  day  of  Cold  Harbour,  success  con 
tinued  to  crown  him — at  Cedar  Mountain,  the  second  Manassas, 
Harper's  Ferry,  Sharpsburg,  where  he  met  the  full  weight  of 
McClellan's  right  wing  under  Hooker,  and  repulsed  it,  and 
Chancellorsville.  When  he  died,  struck  down  by  the  hands  of 
his  own  men,  he  was  the  most  famous  and  the  most  beloved  of 
Southern  commanders. 


II. 

His  popularity  was  great  in  degree,  but  more  singular  in 
character.  No  general  was  ever  so  beloved  by  the  good  and 
pious  of  the  land.  Old  ladies  received  him  wherever  he  went 
with  a  species  of  enthusiasm,  and  I  think  he  preferred  their 
society  and  that  of  clergymen  to  any  other.  In  such  society  his 
kindly  nature  seemed  to  expand,  and  his  countenance  was 
charming.  He  would  talk  for  hours  upon  religious  subjects, 
never  weary,  it  seemed,  of  such  discourse,  and  at  such  moments 
his  smile  had  the  sweetness  and  simplicity  of  childhood.  The 
hard  intellect  was  resting,  and  the  heart  of  the  soldier  spoke  in 
this  congenial  converse  upon  themes  more  dear  to  him  than  all 
others.  1  have  seen  him  look  serene  and  perfectly  happy,  con 
versing  with  a  venerable  lady  upon  their  relative  religious 
experiences.  Children  were  also  great  favourites  with  him,  and 
he  seldom  failed  to  make  them  love  him.  When  at  his  head 
quarters  below  Fredericksburg,  in  1863,  he  received  a  splendid 


48  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

new  cap,  gorgeous  with  a  broad  band  of  dazzling  gold  braid, 
which  was  greatly  admired  by  a  child  one  day  in  his  quarters. 
Thereupon  Jackson  drew  her  between  his  knees,  ripped  off  the 
braid,  and  binding  it  around  her  curls,  sent  her  away  delighted. 
With  maidens  of  more  advanced  age,  however,  the  somewhat 
shy  General  was  less  at  his  ease.  At  "  Hay  field,"  near  the 
same  headquarters,  and  about  the  same  time,  the  hospitable 
family  were  one  day  visited  by  Generals  Lee,  Jackson,  and 
Stuart,  when  a  little  damsel  of  fourteen  confided  to  her  friend 
General  Lee  her  strong  desire  to  kiss  General  Jackson.  General 
Lee,  always  fond  of  pleasantry,  at  once  informed  Jackson  of  the 
young  lady's  desire,  and  the  great  soldier's  face  was  covered 
with  blushes  and  confusion.  An  amusing  picture,  too,  is  drawn 
of  the  General  when  he  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  ladies  of 
Martinsburg,  and  they  cut  off  almost  every  button  of  his  coat 
as  souvenirs.  The  beleaguered  hero  would  have  preferred 
storming  a  line  of  intrench ments. 

Jackson  had  little  humour.  He  was  not  sour  or  gloomy,  nor 
did  he  look  grimly  upon  "fun"  as  something  which  a  good 
Presbyterian  should  avoid.  He  was  perfectly  cheerful,  liberal 
and  rational  in  this  as  in  everything ;  but  he  had  no  ear  for 
humour,  as  some  persons  have  none  for  music.  A  joke  was  a 
mysterious  affair  to  him.  Only  when  so  very  "broad"  and 
staring,  that  he  who  ran  might  read  it,  did  humour  of  any  sort 
strike  Jackson.  Even  his  thick  coating  of  matter-of-fact  was 
occasionally  pierced,  however.  At  Port  Eepublic  a  soldier  said 
to  his  companion  :  "  I  wish  these  Yankees  were  in  hell,"  where 
upon  the  other  replied :  "I  don't;  for  if  they  were,  old  Jack 
would  be  within  half  a  mile  of  them,  with  the  Stonewall  Bri 
gade  in  front !  "  When  this  was  told  to  Jackson,  he  is  -said  to 
have  burst  out  into  hearty  laughter,  most  unusual  of  sounds  upon 
the  lips  of  the  serious  soldier.  But  such  enjoyment  of  fun  was 
rare  with  him.  I  was  never  more  struck  with  this  than  one  day 
at  Fredericksburg,  at  General  Stuart's  headquarters.  There  was 
an  indifferent  brochure  published  in  those  days,  styled  "  Abram, 
a  Poem,"  in  the  comic  preface  to  which,  Jackson  was  presented 
in  a  most  ludicrous  light,  seated  on  a  stump  at  Oxhill  and  gnaw- 


JACKSON.  49 

ing  at  a  roasting  ear,  while  a  whole  North  Carolina  brigade 
behind  him  in  line  of  battle  was  doing  likewise.  General  Stuart 
read  it  with  bursts  of  laughter  to  his  friend,  and  Jackson  also 
laughed  with  perfect  good-humour;  but  no  sooner  had  the  book 
been  closed  than  he  seemed  to  forget  its  existence,  and  said  with 
an  irresistibly  matter-of-fact  expression  which  made  this  writer 
retire  to  indulge  his  own  laughter:  "By  the  by,  in  going  to  Cul- 
peper,  where  did  you  cross  the  Rapidan  f "  His  manner  was 
unmistakable.  It  said  :  "  My  dear  Stuart,  all  that  is  no  doubt 
very  ^amusing  to  you,  and  I  laugh  because  you  do ;  but  it  don't 
interest  me."  On  one  occasion  only,  to  the  knowledge  of  the 
present  writer,  did  Jackson  betray  something  like  dry  humour. 
It  was  at  Harper's  Ferry,  in  September,  1862,  just  after  the  sur 
render  of  that  place,  and  when  General  Lee  was  falling  back 
upon  Sharpsburg.  Jackson  was  standing  on  the  bridge  over 
the  Potomac  when  a  courier,  out  of  breath,  and  seriously  "  de 
moralized,"  galloped  up  to  him,  and  announced  that  McClellan 
was  within  an  hour's  march  of  the  place  with  an  enormous  army. 
Jackson  was  conversing  with  a  Federal  officer  at  the  moment, 
and  did  not  seem  to  hear  the  courier,  who  repeated  his  message 
with  every  mark  of  agitation.  Thereupon  Jackson  turned  round 
and  said  :  "Has  he  any  cattle  with  him  ?  "  The  reply  was  that 
there  were  thousands.  "  Well,"  said  Jackson,  with  his  dry  smile, 
"  you  can  go.  My  men  can  whip  any  army  that  comes  well 
provisioned."  Of  wit,  properly  speaking,  he  had  little.  But 
at  times  his  brief,  wise,  matter-of-fact  sentences  became  epigram 
matic.  Dr.  Hunter  McGuire,  his  medical  director,  once  gave 
him  some  whiskey  when  he  was  wet  and  fatigued.  Jackson  made 
a  wry  face  in  swallowing  it,  and  Dr.  McGuire  asked  if  it  was 
not  good  whiskey.  "  Oh,  yes,"  replied  Jackson,  "  I  like  liquor, 
the  taste  and  effect — that's  why  I  don't  drink  it" 

III. 

I  have  endeavoured  to  draw  an  outline  of  Jackson  on  horse 
back — the  stiff,  gaunt  figure,  dingy  costume,  piercing  eyes ;  the 
large,  firm,  iron  mouth,  and  the  strong  fighting-jaw.  A  few 

4 


50  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

more  words  upon  these  personal  peculiarities.  The  soldier's 
face  was  one  of  decided  character;  but  not  eminently  striking. 
One  circumstance  always  puzzled  me — Jackson's  lofty  forehead 
seemed  to  indicate  unmistakably  a  strong  predominance  of  the 
imagination  and  fancy,  and  a  very  slight  tendency  or  aptitude 
for  mathematics.  It  was  the  forehead  of  a  poet! — the  statement 
is  almost  a  jest.  Jackson  the  stern,  intensely  matter-of-fact 
mathematician,  a  man  of  fancy !  Never  did  forehead  so  contra 
dict  phrenology  before.  A  man  more  guiltless  of  "poetry"  in 
thought  or  deed,  I  suppose  never  lived.  His  poetry  was  the 
cannon's  flash,  the  rattle  of  musketry,  and  the  lurid  cloud  of  bat 
tle.  Then,  it  is  true,  his  language,  ordinarily  so  curt  and  cold, 
grew  eloquent,  almost  tragic  and  heroic  at  times,  from  the  deep 
feeling  of  the  man.  At  Malvern  Hill,  General  -  -  receivecj 
an  order  from  Jackson  to  advance  and  attack  the  Federal  forces 
in  their  fortified  position,  for  which  purpose  he  must  move 

across  an  open  field  swept  by  their  artillery.  General was 

always  "  impracticable,1'  though  thoroughly  brave,  and  gallop 
ing  up  to  Jackson  said,  almost  rudely,  "  Did  you  send  me  an 
order  to  advance  over  that  field  ?  "  "I  did,  sir,"  was  the  cold 
reply  of  Jackson,  in  whose  eyes  began  to  glow  the  light  of  a 

coming  storm.  "  Impossible,  sir !"  exclaimed  General in 

a  tone  almost  of  insubordination,  "  my  men  will  be  annihilated ! 
— annihilated,  I  tell  you,  sir !  "  Jackson  raised  his  finger,  and 
in  his  cold  voice  there  was  an  accent  of  menace  which  cooled 
his  opponent  like  a  hand  of  ice. 

"  General ,'*  he  said,  "  I  always  endeavour  to  take  care  of 

my  wounded  and  to  bury  my  dead.  Obey  that  order,  sir !  " 

The  officer  who  was  present  at  this  scene  and  related  it  to  me, 
declares  that  he  never  saw  a  deeper  suppression  of  concentrated 
anger  than  that  which  shone  in  Jackson's  eye,  or  heard  a  human 
voice  more  menacing. 

There  were  other  times  when  Jackson,  stung  and  aroused, 
was  driven  from  his  propriety,  or,  at  least,  out  of  his  coolness. 
The  winter  of  1861-2  was  such  an  occasion.  He  had  made  his 
expedition  to  Morgan  county,  and,  in  spite  of  great  suffering 
among  the  troops,  had  forced  the  Federal  garrisons  at  Bath  and 


JACKSON.  51 

Eomney  to  retire,  and  accomplished  all  hisends.  General  Loring 
was  then  left  at  Romney,  and  Jackson  returned  to  Winchester. 
All  that  is  well  known.  What  follows  is  not  known  to  many. 
General  Loring  conceived  an  intense  enmity  for  Jackson,  and 
made  such  representations  at  Richmond,  that  an  order  was  sent 
to  Loring  direct,  not  through  Jackson,  commanding  in  the  Val 
ley,  recalling  him.  Jackson  at  once  sent  in  his  resignation. 
The  scene  which  took  place  between  him  and  his  friend  Colonel 
Boteler,  thereupon,  was  a  stormy  one.  The  Colonel  in  vain 
tried  to  persuade  him  that  he  ought  to  recall  his  resignation. 
"  No,  sir,"  exclaimed  Jackson,  striding  fiercely  up  and  down, 
"  I  will  not  hold  a  command  upon  terms  of  that  sort.  I  will 
not  have  those  people  at  Richmond  interfering  in  my  plans,  and 
sending  orders  to  an  officer  under  me,  without  even  informing 
me.  No  soldier  can  endure  it.  I  care  not  for  myself.  If  I 
know  myself  I  do  not  act  from  anger — but  if  I  yield  now  they 
will  treat  better  men  in  the  same  way !  I  am  nobody — but  the 
protest  must  be  made  here,  or  Lee  and  Johnston  will  be  meddled 
with  as  T  am.1'  It  was  only  after  the  resignation  had  been  with 
drawn  by  the  Governor  of  Virginia  without  his  authority,  and 
explanations,  apologies,  protestations,  came  from  the  head  of  the 
War  Office,  that  the  design  was  given  up.  Such  is  a  little  mor- 
ceau  of  private  history,  showing  how  Jackson  came  near  not 
commanding  in  the  Valley  in  1862. 

With  the  exception  of  these  rare  occasions  when  his  great 
passions  were  aroused,  Jackson  was  an  apparently  commonplace 
person,  and  his  bearing  neither  striking,  graceful,  nor  impressive. 
He  rode  ungracefully,  walked  with  an  awkward  stride,  and 
wanted  ease  of  manner.  He  never  lost  a  certain  shyness  in 
company ;  and  I  remember  his  air  of  boyish  constraint,  one 
day,  when,  in  leaving  an  apartment  full  of  friends,  he  hesitated 
whether  to  shake  hands  with  every  one  or  not.  Catching  the 
eye  of  the  present  writer,  who  designed  remaining,  he  hastily 
extended  his  hand,  shook  hands,  and  quickly  retired,  apparently 
relieved.  His  bearing  thus  wanted  ease;  but,  personally,  he 
made  a  most  agreeable  impression  by  his  delightfully  natural 
courtesy.  His  smile  was  as  sweet  as  a  child's,  and  evidently 


52  WEARING   OF   THE   GRAY. 

sprang  from  his  goodness  of  heart.  A  lady  said  it  was  "  an 
gelic."  His  voice  in  ordinary  conversation  was  subdued,  and 
pleasant  from  its  friendly  and  courteous  tone,  though  injured  by 
the  acquired  habit — a  West  Pointism — of  cutting  off,  so  to  speak, 
each  word,  and  leaving  each  to  take  care  of  itself.  This  was 
always  observable  in  his  manner  of  talking ;  but  briefest  of  the 
brief,  curtest  of  the  curt,  was  General  Stonewall  Jackson  on  the 
field  of  battle  and  "at  work."  His  words  were  then  let  fall  as 
though  under  protest;  all  superfluities  were  discarded;  and  the 
monosyllables  jerked  from  his  lips  seemed  clipped  off.  one  by 
one,  and  launched  to  go  upon  separate  ways.  The  eccentricities 
of  the  individual  were  undoubtedly  a  strong  element  of  his  popu 
larity  ;  the  dress,  habits,  bearing  of  the  man,  all  made  his  sol 
diers  adore  him.  General  Lee's  air  of  collected  dignity,  mingled 
with  a  certain  grave  and  serious  pride,  aroused  rather  admiration' 
than  affection — though  during  the  last  years  of  the  war,  the 
troops  came  to  love  as  much  as  they  admired  him:  to  arrive  at 
which  point  they  had  only  to  know  the  great  warm  heart  which 
beat  under  that  calm  exterior,  making  its  possessor  "  one  alto 
gether  lovely."  Jackson's  appearance  and  manners,  on  the  con 
trary,  were  such  as  conciliate  a  familiar,  humorous  liking.  His 
dingy  old  coat,  than  which  scarce  a  private's  in  his  command 
was  more  faded ;  his  dilapidated  and  discolored  cap ;  the  ab 
sence  of  decorations  and  all  show  in  his  dress;  his  odd  ways; 
his  kindly,  simple  manner ;  his  habit  of  sitting  down  and  eating 
with  his  men ;  his  indifference  whether  his  bed  were  in  a  com 
fortable  headquarter  tent,  on  a  camp  couch,  or  in  a  fence  corner 
with  no  shelter  from  the  rain  but  his  cloak  ;  his  abstemiousness, 
fairness,  honesty,  simplicity ;  his  never-failing  regard  for  the 
comfort  and  the  feelings  of  the  private  soldier;  his  oddities, 
eccentricities,  and  originalities — all  were  an  unfailing  provocative 
to  liking,  and  endeared  him  to  his  men.  Troops  are  charmed 
when  there  is  anything  in  the  personal  character  of  a  great 
leader  to  "make  fun  of" — admiration  of  his  genius  then  be 
comes  enthusiasm  for  his  person.  Jackson  had  aroused  this 
enthusiasm  in  his  men — and  it  was  a  weapon  with  which  he 
struck  hard. 


JACKSON.  53 

One  of  the  most  curious  peculilHties  of  Jackson  was  the 
strange  fashion  he  had  of  raising  his  right  hand  aloft  and  then 
letting  it  fall  suddenly  to  his  side.  It  is  impossible,  perhaps,  to 
determine  the  meaning  of  this  singular  gesture.  It  is  said  that 
he  had  some  physical  ailment  which  he  thus  relieved ;  others 
believed  that  at  such  moments  he  was  praying.  Either  may  be 
the  fact.  Certain  it  is  that  he  often  held  his  hand,  sometimes 
both  hands,  thus  aloft  in  battle,  and  that  his  lips  were  then  seen 
to  move,  evidently  in  prayer.  Not  once,  but  many  times,  has 
the  singular  spectacle  been  presented  of  a  Lieutenant-General 
commanding,  sitting  on  his  horse  silently  as  his  column  moved 
before  him — his  hands  raised  to  heaven,  his  eyes  closed,  his  lips 
moving  in  prayer.  At  Chancellorsville,  as  he  recognised  the 
corpses  of  any  of  his  old  veterans,  he  would  check  his  horse, 
raise  his  hands  to  heaven,  and  utter  a  prayer  over  the  dead  body. 

There  were  those  who  said  that  all  this  indicated  a  partial 
species  of  insanity — that  Jackson's  mind  was  not  sound.  Other 
stories  are  told  of  him  which  aim  to  show  that  his  eccentricities 
amounted  to  craziness.  Upon  this  point  the  philosophers  and 
physiologists  must  decide.  The  present  writer  can  only  say  that 
Jackson  appeared  to  him  to  be  an  eminently  rational,  judicious, 
and  sensible  person  in  conversation ;  and  the  world  must  deter 
mine  whether  there  was  any  "  craze,"  any  flaw  or  crack,  or  error, 
in  the  terribly  logical  processes  of  his  brain  as  a  fighter  of 
armies.  The  old  incredulity  of  Frederick  will  obtrude  itself 
upon  the  mind.  If  Jackson  was  crazy,  it  is  a  pity  he  did  not 
bite  somebody,  and  inoculate  them  with  a  small  amount  of  his 
insanity  as  a  soldier.  Unquestionably  the  most  striking  trait  of 
Jackson  as  a  leader  was  his  unerring  judgment  and  accuracy  of 
calculation.  The  present  writer  believes  himself  to  be  familiar 
with  every  detail  of  his  career,  and  does  not  recall  one  blunder. 
Kernstown  was  fought  upon  information  furnished  by  General 
Ashby,  a  most  accomplished  and  reliable  partisan,  which  turned 
out  to  be  inaccurate;  but  even  in  defeat  Jackson  there  accom 
plished  the  very  important  object  of  retaining  a  large  Federal 
force  in  the  Yalley,  which  McClellan  needed  on  the  Chicka- 
hominy.  For  instances  of  the  boldness,  fertility,  and  originality 


54  WEARING   OF   THE   GKAY. 

of  his  conceptions,  take  tfce  campaigns  against  General  Pope, 
the  surprise  of  Harper's  Ferry,  the  great  flank  attack  at  Chan- 
cellorsville,  and  the  marvellous  success  of  every  step  taken  in 
the  campaign  of  the  Valley.  This  is  not  the  occasion  for  an 
analysis  of  these  campaigns ;  but  it  may  be  safely  declared  that 
they  are  magnificent  illustrations  of  the  mathematics  of  war; 
that  the  brain  which  conceived  and  executed  designs  so  bold  and 
splendid,  must  have  possessed  a  sanity  for  all  practical  purposes 
difficult  to  dispute. 

IV. 

Jackson's  religious  opinions  are  unknown  to  the  present  writer. 
He  has  been  called  a  "  fatalist."  All  sensible  men  are  fatalists 
in  one  sense,  in  possessing  a  strong  conviction  that  "  what  will 
be,  will  be."  But  men  of  deep  piety  like  Jackson,  are  not  Ori 
ental  in  their  views.  Fate  was  a  mere  word  with  Jackson,  with 
no  meaning ;  his  "  star "  was  Providence.  Love  for  and  trust 
in  that  Providence  dwelt  and  beat  in  every  vein  and  pulse  of 
his  nature.  His  whole  soul  was  absorbed  in  his  religion — as 
much  as  a  merchant's  is  in  his  business,  or  a  statesman's  in  pub 
lic  affairs.  He  believed  that  life  "  meant  intensely,  and  meant 
good."  To  find  its  meaning  was  "  his  meat  and  drink."  His 
religion  was  his  life,  and  the  real  world  a  mere  phantasmagoria. 
He  seemed  to  have  died  rejoicing,  preferring  death  to  life. 
Strange  madness !  This  religious  dreamer  was  the  stern,  prac 
tical,  mathematical  calculator  of  chances;  the  obstinate,  un 
yielding  fighter ;  the  most  prosaic  of  realists  in  all  the  common 
places  of  the  dreadfully  commonplace  trade  of  war. 

The  world  knocks  down  many  people  with  that  cry  of  "  eccen 
tric,"  by  which  is  really  meant  "  insane."  Any  divergence  from 
the  conventional  is  an  evidence  of  mental  unsoundness.  Jack 
son  was  seen,  once  in  Lexington,  walking  up  and  down  in  a 
heavy  rain  before  the  superintendent's  quarters,  waiting  for  the 
clock  to  strike  ten  before  he  delivered  his  report.  He  wore 
woollen  clothes  throughout  the  summer.  He  would  never  mail 
a  letter  which  to  reach  its  destination  must  travel  on  Sunday. 


JACKSON.  55 

All  these  things  made  him  laughed  at;  and  yet  the  good  sense 
seems  all  on  his  side,  the  folly  on  that  of  the  laughers.  The  In 
stitute  was  a  military  school ;  military  obedience  was  the  great 
important  lesson  to  the  student — rigid,  unquestioning  obedience. 
Jackson  set  them  the  example.  He  was  ordered  to  hand  in  his 
report  at  ten,  and  did  not  feel  himself  at  liberty  to  present  it  be 
fore  ten,  in  consequence  of  the  rain.  He  was  ordered  to  don  a 
woollen  uniform  in  the  winter,  and  having  received  no  order 
prescribing  or  permitting  another,  continued  to  wear  it.  He 
considered  it  wrong  to  travel  or  carry  mails  on  Sunday,  and 
would  not  take  part  in  the  commission  of  wrong.  This  appears 
logical,  however  eccentric. 

In  truth,  the  great  soldier  was  an  altogether  earnest  man,  with 
little  genius  for  the  trivial  pursuits  of  life,  or  its  more  trivial 
processes  of  thought  and  opinion.  His  temper  was  matter-of- 
fact,  his  logic  straightforward;  "nonsense"  could  not  live  in 
his  presence.  The  lighter  graces  were  denied  him,  but  not  the 
abiding  charm.  He  had  no  eye  for  the  "flower  of  the  peas,"  no 
palate  for  the  bubble  on  the  champagne  of  life  ;  but  he  was  true, 
kind,  brave,  and  simple.  Life  with  him  was  a  hard,  earnest 
struggle ;  duty  seems  to  have  been  his  watchword.  It  is  hard 
to  find  in  his  character  any  actual  blot — he  was  so  true  and 
honest. 

Jackson  has  probably  excited  more  admiration  in  Europe 
than  any  other  personage  in  the  late  revolution.  His  opponents 
even  are  said  to  have  acknowledged  the  purity  of  his  motives — 
to  have  recognised  the  greatness  of  his  character  and  the  splen 
dor  of  his  achievements.  This  sentiment  springs  naturally  from 
a  review  of  his  life.  It  is  no  part  of  my  design  to  present  a 
critical  analysis  of  his  military  movements.  This  must  sooner 
or  later  be  done  ;  but  at  present  the  atmosphere  is  not  clear  of 
the  battle-smoke,  and  figures  are  seen  indistinctly.  The  time 
will  come  when  the  campaigns  of  Jackson  will  become  the  study 
of  military  men  in  the  Old  World  and  the  New — the  masterly  ad 
vances  and  retreats  of  the  Valley ;  the  descent  against  McClel- 
lan;  the  expedition  to  Pope's  rear,  which  terminated  in  the 
second  battle  of  Manassas;  and  the  great  flank  movement  at 


56  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

Chancellorsville,  which  has  made  the  tangled  brakes  of  the 
Spotsylvania  wilderness  famous  for  ever. 

Under  the  grave  exterior,  the  reserved  demeanour,  the  old 
faded  costume  of  the  famous  soldier,  the  penetrating  student  of 
human  nature  will  discern  "  one  of  the  immortals."  In  the  man 
who  holds  aloft  his  hand  in  prayer  while  his  veteran  battalions 
move  by  steadily  to  the  charge,  it  will  not  be  difficult  to  fancy 
a  reproduction  of  the  stubborn  Cromwell,  sternest  of  Ironsides, 
going  forth  to  conquer  in  the  name  of  the  Lord.  In  the  man 
who  led  his  broken  lines  back  to  the  conflict,  and  charged  in 
front  of  them  on  many  fields,  there  was  all  the  dash  and  im 
petus  of  Rupert.  The  inscrutable  decree  of  Providence  struck 
down  this  great  soldier  in  the  prime  of  life  and  the  bloom  of  his 
faculties.  His  career  extended  over  but  two  years,  and  he  lives 
only  in  memory.  But  history  cannot  avoid  her  landmarks ;  the 
great  proportions  of  Stonewall  Jackson  will  sooner  or  later  be 
delineated. 

The  writer  of  these  lines  can  only  say  how  great  this  man 
appeared  to  him,  and  wait  with  patience  for  the  picture  which 
shall  "  denote  him  truly." 


III. 
HAMPTON. 

i. 

THERE  was  a  gentleman  of  South  Carolina,  of  high  position  and 
ample  estate,  who  in  1861  came  to  take  part  in  the  war  in 
Virginia,  at  the  head  of  a  "  Legion  "  of  six  hundred  infantry. 
This  body  of  men,  it  was  said,  he  had  equipped  from  his  own 
purse ;  as  he  had  sent  to  England  and  purchased  the  artillery 
with  which  he  was  going  to  fight. 

The  u  Legion  "  was  composed  of  brave  stuff,  and  officered  by 
hard-fighting  gentlemen — the  flower  indeed  of  the  great  South 
Carolina  race ;  a  good  stock.  It  first  took  the  field  in  earnest  at 
the  first  battle  of  Manassas — as  an  independent  organization, 
belonging  neither  to  Beauregard's  "  Army  of  the  Potomac"  nor 
to  Johnston's  "Army  of  the  Shenandoah."  But  there  it  was,  as 
though  dropped  from  the  clouds,  on  the  morning  of  that  fiery 
twenty-first  of  July,  1861,  amid  the  corn-fields  of  Manassas. 
It  made  its  mark  without  loss  of  time — stretching  out  to  Vir 
ginia  that  firm,  brave  hand  of  South  Carolina.  At  ten  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  on  this  eventful  day,  the  battle  seemed  lost  to 
the  Southerners.  Evans  was  cut  to  pieces ;  Bee  shattered  and 
driven  back  in  utter  defeat  to  the  Henry -House  hill ;  between 
the  victorious  enemy  and  Beauregard's  unprotected  flank  were 
interposed  only  the  six  hundred  men  of  the  "Legion"  already 
up,  and  the  two  thousand  six  hundred  and  eleven  muskets  of 
Jackson  not  yet  in  position.  The  Legion  occupied  the  War- 
renton  road  near  the  Stone  House,  where  it  met  and  sustained 
with  stubborn  front  the  torrent  dashed  against  it.  General 


58  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

Keyes,  with  his  division,  attacked  the  six  hundred  from  the 
direction  of  Eed-House  ford,  and  his  advance  line  was  forced 
back  by  them,  and  compelled  to  take  refuge  beneath  the  bluffs 
near  Stone  bridge.  The  column  of  General  Hunter,  meanwhile, 
closed  in  on  the  left  of  the  little  band,  enveloped  their  flank, 
and  poured  a  destructive  artillery  fire  along  the  line.  To  hold 
their  ground  further  was  impossible,  and  they  slowly  fell  back ; 
but  those  precious  moments  had  been  secured.  Jackson  was  in 
position;  the  Legion  retreated,  and  formed  upon  his  right;  the 
enemy's  advance  was  checked  ;  and  when  the  Southern  line 
advanced  in  its  turn,  with  wild  cheers,  piercing  the  Federal  cen 
tre,  the  South  Carolinians  fought  shoulder  to  shoulder  beside 
the  Stonewall  Brigade,  and  saw  the  Federal  forces  break  in  dis 
order.  When  the  sun  set  on  this  bloody  and  victorious  field, 
the  "  Legion  "  had  made  a  record  among  the  most  honourable  ii\ 
history.  They  had  done  more  than  their  part  in  the  hard  struggle, 
and  now  saw  the  enemy  in  full  retreat ;  but  their  leader  did  not 
witness  that  spectacle.  Wade  Hampton  had  been  shot  down  in 
the  final  charge  near  the  Henry  House,  and  borne  from  the  field, 
cheering  on  his  men  to  the  last,  with  that  stubborn  hardihood 
which  he  derived  from  his  ancestral  blood. 

Such  was  the  first  appearance  upon  the  great  arena  of  a  man 
who  was  destined  to  act  a  prominent  part  in  the  tragic  drama  of 
the  war,  and  win  for  himself  a  distinguished  name.  At  Manas- 
sas,  there  in  the  beginning  of  the  struggle,  as  always  afterwards, 
he  was  the  cool  and  fearless  soldier.  It  was  easily  seen  by  those 
who  watched  Hampton  "  at  work  "  that  he  fought  from  a  sense 
of  duty,  and  not  from  passion,  or  to  win  renown.  The  war  was 
a  gala-day  full  of  attraction  and  excitement  to  some ;  with  him 
it  was  hard  work — not  sought,  but  accepted.  I  am  certain  that 
he  was  not  actuated  by  a  thirst  for  military  rank  or  renown. 
From  those  early  days  when  all  was  gay  and  brilliant,  to  the 
latter  years  when  the  conflict  had  become  so  desperate  and 
bloody,  oppressing  every  heart,  Hampton  remained  the  same 
cool,  unexcited  soldier.  He  was  foremost  in  every  fight,  and 
everywhere  did  more  than  his  duty  ;  but  evidently  martial  ambi 
tion  did  not  move  him.  Driven  to  take  up  arms  by  his  princi- 


HAMPTON".  59 

pies,  he  fought  for  those  principles,  not  for  fame.  It  followed 
him — he  did  not  follow  it ;  and  to  contemplate  the  character  and 
career  of  such  a  man  is  wholesome. 

His  long  and  arduous  career  cannot  here  be  narrated.  A  bare 
reference  to  some  prominent  points  is  all  that  can  be  given. 
Colonel  Hampton,  of  the  "  Hampton  Legion,"  soon  became 
Brigadier-General  Hampton,  of  the  cavalry.  The  horsemen  of 
the  Gulf  States  serving  in  Virginia  were  placed  under  him,  and 
the  brigade  became  a  portion  of  Stuart's  command.  It  soon 
made  its  mark.  Here  are  some  of  the  landmarks  in  the  stir 
ring  record. 

The  hard  and  stubborn  stand  made  at  the  Catoctin  Mountain, 
when  General  Lee  first  invaded  Maryland,  and  where  Hampton 
charged  and  captured  the  Federal  artillery  posted  in  the  suburbs 
of  Frederick  City  ;  the  rear-guard  work  as  the  Southern  column 
hastened  on,  pursued  by  McClellan,  to  Sharpsburg ;  the  stout 
fighting  on  the  Confederate  left  there  ;  the  raid  around  McClel- 
lan's  army  in  October ;  the  obstinate  fighting  in  front  of  the 
gaps  of  the  Blue  Ridge  as  Lee  fell  back  in  November  to  the  line 
of  the  Rappahannock ;  the  expedition  in  dead  of  winter  to  the 
Occoquan ;  the  critical  and  desperate  combat  on  the  ninth  of 
June,  1868,  at  Fleetwood  Hill,  near  Brandy,  where  Hampton 
held  the  right,  and  Young,  of  Georgia,  the  brave  of  braves,  went 
at  the  flanking  column  of  the  enemy  with  the  sabre,  never  firing 
a  shot,  and  swept  them  from  the  field ;  the  speedy  advance, 
thereafter,  from  the  Rapidan  ;  the  close  and  bitter  struggle  when 
the  enemy,  with  an  overpowering  force  of  infantry,  cavalry,  and 
artillery,  about  the  twentieth  of  June,  attacked  the  Southern 
cavalry  near  Middleburg,  and  forced  them  back  step  by  step 
beyond  Upperville,  where  in  the  last  wild  charge,  when  the 
Confederates  were  nearly  broken,  Hampton  went  in  with  the 
sabre  at  the  head  of  his  men  and  saved  tl*e  command  from 
destruction  by  his  "do  or  die"  fighting;  the  advance  imme 
diately  into  Pennsylvania,  when  the  long,  hard  march,  like  the 
verses  of  Ariosto,  was  strewed  all  over  with  battles  ;  the  stubborn 
attack  at  Hanovertown,  where  Hampton  stood  like  a  rock  upon 
the  hills  above  the  place,  and  the  never-ceasing  or  receding  roar 


60  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

of  his  artillery  told  us  that  on  the  right  flank  all  was  well ;  the 
march  thereafter  to  Carlisle,  and  back  to  Gettysburg ;  the  grand 
charge  there,  sabre  to  sabre,  where  Hampton  was  shot  through 
the  body,  and  nearly  cut  out  of  the  saddle  by  a  sabre  blow  upon 
the  head,  which  almost  proved  fatal ;  the  hard  conflicts  of  the 
Wilderness,  when  General  Grant  came  over  in  May,  1864 ;  the 
fighting  on  the  north  bank  of  the  Po,  and  on  the  left  of  the 
army  at  Spotsylvania  Court-House ;  the  various  campaigns 
against  Sheridan,  Kautz,  Wilson,  and  the  later  cavalry  leaders 
on  the  Federal  side,  when,  Stuart  having  fallen,  Hampton  com 
manded  the  whole  Virginia  cavalry ;  the  hot  fights  at  Trevil- 
lian's,  at  Eeanis,  at  Bell  field,  in  a  hundred  places,  when,  in 
those  expiring  hours  of  the  great  conflict,  a  species  of  fury 
seemed  to  possess  both  combatants,  and  Dinwiddie  was  the  arena 
of  a  struggle,  bitter,  bloody,  desperate  beyond  all  expression  ; 
then  the  fighting  in  the  Carolinas  on  the  old  grounds  of  the 
Edisto,  the  high  hills  of  the  Santee  and  Congaree,  which  in  1864 
and  1865  sent  bulletins  of  battle  as  before ;  then  the  last  act  of 
the  tragedy,  when  Sherman  came  and  Hampton's  sabre  gleamed 
in  the  glare  of  his  own  house  at  Columbia,  and  then  was 
sheathed — such  were  some  of  the  scenes  amid  which  the  tall 
form  of  this  soldier  moved,  and  his  sword  flashed.  That  stal 
wart  form  had  everywhere  towered  in  the  van.  On  the  Rappa- 
hannock,  the  Eapidan,  the  Susquehanna,  the  Shenandoah,  the 
Po,  the  North  Anna,  the  James,  the  Eowanty,  and  Hatcher's 
Bun — in  Virginia,  Maryland,  and  Pennsylvania — Hampton  had 
fought  with  the  stubborn  courage  inherited  from  his  Revolution 
ary  sires.  Fighting  lastly  upon  the  soil  of  his  native  State,  he 
felt  no  doubt  as  Marion  and  Sumter  did,  when  Rawdon  and 
Tarleton  came  and  were  met  sabre  to  sabre.  In  the  hot  conflicts 
of  1865,  Hampton  met  the  new  enemy  as  those  preux  chevaliers 
with  their  great  Virginia  comrade,  "  Light-Horse  Harry  "  Lee, 
had  met  the  old  in  1781. 

But  the  record  of  those  stubborn  fights  must  be  left  to  another 
time  and  to  abler  hands.  I  pass  to  a  few  traits  of  the  indi 
vidual. 


HAMPTON.  61 


II. 

Of  this  eminent  soldier,  I  will  say  that,  seeing  him  often  in 
many  of  those  perilous  straits  which  reveal  hard  fibre  or  its 
absence,  I  always  regarded  him  as  a  noble  type  of  courage  and 
manhood — a  gentleman  and  soldier  "to  the  finger  nails."  But 
that  is  not  enough  ;  generalization  and  eulogy  are  unprofitable — 
truth  and  minute  characterization  are  better.  One  personal 
anecdote  of  Caesar  would  be  far  more  valuable  than  a  hundred 
commonplaces — and  that  is  true  of  others.  It  is  not  a  "  general 
idea"  I  am  to  give ;  I  would  paint  the  portrait,  if  I  can,  of  the 
actual  man.  The  individuality  of  the  great  South  Carolinian 
was  very  marked.  You  saw  at  a  glance  the  race  from  which  he 
sprang,  and  the  traits  of  heart  and  brain  which  he  brought  to 
the  hard  contest.  He  was  "  whole  in  himself  and  due  to  none." 
Neither  in  physical  nor  mental  conformation  did  he  resemble 
Stuart,  the  ideal  cavalier — Forrest,  the  rough-rider — or  the  rest. 
To  compare  him  for  an  instant  to  the  famous  Stuart — the  latter 
laughed,  sang,  and  revelled  in  youth  and  enjoyment.  Hampton 
smiled  oftener  than  he  laughed,  never  sang  at  all  that  I  ever 
heard,  and  had  the  composed  demeanour  of  a  man  of  middle  age. 
Stuart  loved  brilliant  colours,  gay  scenes,  and  the  sparkle  of 
bright  eyes.  Hampton  gave  little  thought  to  these  things ;  and 
his  plain  gray  coat,  worn,  dingy,  and  faded,  beside  the  great 
cavalier's  gay  "fighting  jacket,"  shining  with  gold  braid,  defined 
the  whole  difference.  I  do  not  say  that  the  dingy  coat  covered 
a  stouter  heart  than  the  brilliant  jacket — there  never  lived  a 
more  heroic  soul  than  Stuart — but  that  in  this  was  shown  the 
individuality  of  each.  The  one — Stuart — was  young,  gay,  a 
West  Pointer,  and  splendid  in  his  merriment,  elan,  and  abandon. 
The  other,  Hampton,  a  civilian  approaching  middle  age,  a 
planter,  not  a  soldier  by  profession — a  man  who  embarked  in 
the  arduous  struggle  with  the  coolness  of  the  statesman,  rather 
than  the  ardor  of  the  soldier.  It  was  the  planter,  sword  in  hand, 
not  the  United  States  officer,  that  one  saw  in  Hampton — the 
country  gentleman  who  took  up  arms  because  his  native  soil  was 


62  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY 

invaded,  as  the  race  of  which  he  came  had  done  in  the  past. 
That  the  plain  planter,  without  military  education,  became  the 
eminent  soldier,  is  an  evidence  that  "  the  strain  will  show." 
.  Here  is  an  outline  of  the  South  Carolinian  as  he  appeared  in 
July,  1862,  when  the  cavalry  were  resting  after  the  battles  of  the 
Chickahominy,  and  he  often  came  to  the  old  shady  yard  of 
Hanover  Court-House,  to  talk  with  General  Stuart  under  the 
trees  there.  What  the  eye  saw  in  those  days  was  a  personage  of 
tall  stature  and  "  distinguished "  appearance.  The  face  was 
browned  by  sun  and  wind,  and  half  covered  by  dark  side-whis 
kers  joining  a  long  moustache  of  the  same  hue ;  the  chin  bold, 
prominent,  and  bare.  The  eyes  were  brown,  inclining  to  black, 
and  very  mild  and  friendly :  the  voice  low,  sonorous,  and  with  a 
certain  accent  of  dignity  and  composure.  The  frame  of  the  sol-; 
dier— straight,  vigorous,  and  stalwart,  but  not  too  broad  for  grace 
— was  encased  in  a  plain  gray  sack  coat  of  civilian  cut,  with  the 
collar  turned  down ;  cavalry  boots,  large  and  serviceable,  with 
brass  spurs;  a  brown  felt  hat,  without  star  or  feather;  the  rest  of 
the  dress  plain  gray.  Imagine  this  stalwart  figure  with  a  heavy 
sabre  buckled  around  the  waist,  and  mounted  upon  a  large  and 
powerful  animal  of  excellent  blood  and  action,  but  wholly  "  un- 
showy,"  and  a  correct  idea  will  be  obtained  of  General  Wade 
Hampton.  Passing  from  the  clothes  to  the  man — what  impressed 
all  who  saw  him  was  the  attractive  union  of  dignity  and  simpli 
city  in  his  bearing — a  certain  grave  and  simple  courtesy  which 
indicated  the  highest  breeding.  He  was  evidently  an  honest 
gentleman  who  disdained  all  pretence  or  artifice.  It  was  plain 
that  he  thought  nothing  of  personal  decorations  or  military  show, 
and  never  dreamed  of  "  producing  an  impression  "  upon  any  one. 
This  was  revealed  by  that  bearing  full  of  a  proud  modesty  ;  nei 
ther  stiff  nor  insinuating — simple. 

After  being  in  his  presence  for  ten  minutes,  you  saw  that  he 
was  a  man  for  hard  work,  and  not  for  displa}r.  Tha,t  plain  and 
unassuming  manner,  without  pretension,  affectation,  or  "  official " 
coolness,  was  an  index  to  the  character  of  the  individual.  It  is 
easy  to  tell  a  gentleman  ;  something  betrays  that  character,  as 
something  betrays  the  pretender.  Eefinement,  good-breeding, 


HAMPTON.  63 

and  fealty  through  all,  to  honour,  were  here  embodied.  The 
General  was  as  courteous  to  the  humblest  private  soldier  as  to 
the  Commander-in-Chief,  and  you  could  discover  in  him  no  trace 
whatever  of  that  air  of  "  condescension  "  and  "  patronage " 
which  small  persons,  aiming  to  be  great,  sometimes  adopt.  It 
was  the  unforced  courtesy  of  the  gentleman,  not  the  hollow 
politeness  of  the  pretender  to  that  title,  which  all  saw  in 
Hampton.  He  did  not  act  at  all,  but  lived  his  character. 
In  his  voice,  in  his  bearing,  in  all  thaj;  he  said  and  did,  the 
South  Carolinian  betrayed  the  man  who  is  too  proud  not  to  be 
simple,  natural,  and  unassuming. 

Upon  this  trait  of  manner,  merely,  I  may  seem  to  dwell  too 
long.  But  it  is  not  a  trifle.  I  am  trying  to  delineate  a  man  of 
whom  we  Southerners  are  proud — and  this  rare  grace  was  his. 
It  reflected  clearly  the  character  of  the  individual — the  noble 
pride,  the  true  courtesy,  and  the  high-bred  honour  of  one  who, 
amid  all  the  jarring  strife  of  an  excited  epoch,  would  not  suffer 
his  serene  equanimity  of  gentleman  to  be  disturbed;  who  aimed 
to  do  his  duty  to  his  country,  not  rise  above  his  associates  ;  who 
was  no  politer  to  the  high  than  to  the  low,  to  the  powerful  than 
to  the  weak  ;  and  who  respected  more  the  truth  and  courage 
beneath  the  tattered  jacket  than  the  stars  and  wreath  on  the 
braided  coat.  The  result  of  this  kindly  feeling  towards  "  men  of 
low  estate  "  was  marked.  An  officer  long  associated  with  him 
said  to  me  one  day :  "  I  do  not  believe  there  ever  was  a  General 
more  beloved  by  his  whole  command  ;  and  he  more  than  returns 
it.  General  Hampton  has  a  real  tenderness,  I  do  believe,  for  every 
soldier  who  has  ever  served  under  him."  He  was  always  doing 
the  poorer  members  of  his  command  some  kindness.  His  hand 
was  open  like  his  heart.  Many  a  brave  fellow's  family  was  kept 
from  want  by  him  ;  and  a  hundred  instances  of  this  liberality  are 
doubtless  recorded  in  the  grateful  memories  of  the  women  and 
children  whom  he  fought  for,  and  fed  too,  in  those  dark  days. 
This  munificence  -was  nowhere  else  recorded.  The  left  hand 
knew  not  what  the  right  hand  did. 

A  few  words  more  upon  his  personal  bearing.  His  composure 
upon  trying  occasions,  as  in  every-day  life,  indicated  a  self-poised 


64  WEARING   OF   THE    GRAY. 

and  independent  character.  He  rarely  yielded  to  hearty  mirth, 
but  his  smile  was  very  friendly  and  attractive.  You  could  see 
that  he  was  a  person  of  earnest  feelings,  and  had  a  good  heart. 
In  camp  he  was  a  pleasant  companion,  and  those  who  saw  him 
daily  became  most  attached  to  him.  His  staff  were  devoted  to 
him.  I  remember  the  regret  experienced  by  these  brave  gentlemen 
when  Hampton's  assignment  to  the  command  of  all  the  cavalry 
separated  them  from  him.  The  feeling  which  they  then  exhibited 
left  no  doubt  of  the  entente  cordiale  between  the  members  of  the 
military  family.  General  Hampton  liked  to  laugh  and  talk  with 
them  around  the  camp  fire  ;  to  do  them  every  kindness  he  could 
— but  that  was  his  weakness  towards  everybody — and  to  play 
chess,  draughts,  or  other  games,  in  the  intervals  of  fighting  or 
work.  One  of  his  passions  was  hunting.  This  amusement  he 
pursued  upon  every  occasion — over  the  fields  of  Spotsylvania, 
amid  the  woods  of  Dinwiddle,  and  on  the  rivers  of  South  Carolina. 
His  success  was  great.  Ducks,  partridges,  squirrels,  turkey,  and 
deer,  fell  before  his  double-barrel  in  whatever  country  he  pitched 
his  tents.  He  knew  all  the  old  huntsmen  of  the  regions  in  which 
he  tarried,  delighted  to  talk  with  such  upon  the  noble  science  of 
venery,  and  was  considered  by  these  dangerous  critics  a  thorough 
sportsman.  They  regarded  him,  it  is  said,  as  a  comrade  not 
undistinguished;  and  sent  him,  in  friendly  recognition  of  his 
merit,  presents  of  venison  and  other  game,  which  was  plentiful 
along  the  shores  of  the  Rowanty,  or  in  the  backwoods  of 
Dinwiddie.  Hampton  was  holding  the  right  of  General  Lee's 
line  there,  in  supreme  command  of  all  the  Virginia  cavalry  ;  but 
it  was  not  as  a  hunter  of  "  bluebirds  " — so  we  used  to  call  our 
Northern  friends — that  they  respected  him  most.  It  was  as  a 
deer  hunter;  and  I  have  heard  that  the  hard-fighting  cavalier 
relished  very  highly  their  good  opinion  of  him  in  that  character. 
It  is  singular  that  a  love  for  hunting  should  so  often  characterize 
men  of  elegant  scholarship  and  literary  taste.  The  soldier  and 
huntsman  was  also  a  poet,  and  General  Stuart  spoke  in  high 
praise  of  his  writings.  His  prose  style  was  forcible  and  excellent 
— in  letters,  reports,  and  all  that  he  wrote.  The  admirably 
written  address  to  the  people  of  South  Carolina,  which  was 


HAMPTON.  65 

recently  published,  will  display  the  justice  of  this  statement. 
That  paper,  like  all  that  came  from  him,  was  compact,  vigorous, 
lucid,  "  written  in  English,"  and  everywhere  betrayed  the  scholar 
no  less  than  the  patriot.  It  will  live  when  a  thousand  octavos 
have  disappeared. 

III. 

Such  was  Wade  Hampton  the  man — a  gentleman  in  every 
fibre  of  his  being.  It  was  impossible  t'o  imagine -any  thing  coarse 
or  profane  in  the  action  or  utterance  of  the  man.  An  oath  never 
soiled  his  lips.  "  Do  bring  up  that  artillery !  "  or  some  equiva 
lent  exclamation,  was  his  nearest  approach  to  irritation  even. 
Such  was  the  supreme  control  which  this  man  of  character,  full 
of  fire,  force,  and  resolution,  had  over  his  passions.  For,  under 
that  simplicity  and  kindly  courtesy,  was  the  largely-moulded 
nature  of  one  ready  to  go  to  the  death  when  honour  called.  In 
a  single  word,  it  was  a  powerful  organization  under  complete 
control  which  the  present  writer  seemed  to  recognise  in  Wade 
Hampton.  Under  that  sweetness  and  dignity  which  made  him 
conspicuous  among  the  first  gentlemen  of  his  epoch,  was  the 
stubborn  spirit  of  the  born  soldier. 

Little  space  is  left  to  speak  of  him  in  his  military  character. 
I  preferred  to  dwell  upon  Hampton  the  man,  as  he  appeared  to 
me  ;  for  Hampton  the  General  will  find  many  historians.  Some 
traits  of  the  soldier,  however,  must  not  be  omitted ;  this  character 
is  too  eminent  to  be  drawn  only  in  profile.  On  the  field 
Hampton  was  noted  for  his  coolness.  This  never  left  him.  It 
might  almost  be  called  repose,  so  perfect  was  it.  He  was  never 
an  excitable  man ;  and  as  doubt  and  danger  pressed  heavier,  his 
equanimity  seemed  to  increase.  You  could  see  that  this  was 
truly  a  stubborn  spirit.  I  do  not  think  that  anybody  who  knew 
him  could  even  imagine  Wade  Hampton  "  flurried."  His  nerve 
was  made  of  invincible  stuff,  and  his  entire  absence  of  all 
excitability  on  the  field  was  spoken  of  by  his  enemies  as  a  fault. 
It  was  said  that  his  coolness  amounted  to  a  defect  in  a  cavalry 
leader ;  that  he  wanted  the  dash,  rush,  and  impetus  which  this 

5 


66  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

branch  of  the  service  demands.  If  there  was  any  general  truth 
in  this  criticism,  there  was  none  in  particular  instances.  Hampton 
was  sufficiently  headlong  when  I  saw  him — was  one  of  the  most 
thoroughly  successful  commanders  imaginable,  and  •  certainly 
Beemed  to  have  a  natural  turn  for  going  in  front  of  his  column 
with  a  drawn  sabre.  What  the  French  call  elan  is  not,  however, 
the  greatest  merit  in  a  soldier.  Behind  the  strong  arm  was  the 
wary  brain.  Cool  and  collected  resolution,  a  comprehensive 
survey  of  the  whole  field,  and  the  most  excellent  dispositions  for 
attack  or  defence — such  were  the  merits  of  this  soldier.  I  could 
never  divest  myself  of  the  idea  that  as  a  corps  commander  of 
infantry  he  would  have  figured  among  the  most  eminent  names 
of  history.  With  an  unclouded  brain ;  a  coup  tfoe.il  as  clear  as  a 
ray  of  the  sun  ;  invincible  before  danger ;  never  flurried,  anxious, 
or  despondent ;  content  to  wait ;  too  wary  ever  to  be  surprised  ] 
looking  to  great  trials  of  strength,  and  to  general  results — the 
man  possessing  these  traits  of  character  was  better  fitted,  I 
always  thought,  for  the  command  of  troops  of  all  arms — infantry, 
cavalry,  and  artillery — than  for  one  arm  alone.  But  with  that 
arm  which  he  commanded — cavalry — what  splendid  results  did 
he  achieve.  In  how  many  perilous  straits  was  his  tall  figure  seen 
in  front  of  the  Southern  horsemen,  bidding  them  "  come  on," 
not  "  go  on."  He  was  not  only  the  commander,  but  the  sabreur 
too.  Thousands  will  remember  how  his  gallant  figure  led  the 
charging  column  at  Frederick  City,  at  Upperville,  at  Gettysburg, 
at  Trevillian's,  and  in  a  hundred  other  fights.  Nothing  more 
superb  could  be  imagined  than  Hampton  at  such  moments. 
There  was  no  flurry  in  the  man — but  determined  resolution. 
No  doubt  of  the  result  apparently — no  looking  for  an  avenue  of 
retreat.  "  Sabre  to  sabre  !  "  might  have  been  taken  as  the  motto 
of  his  banner.  In  the  "heady  fight"  he  was  everywhere  seen, 
amid  the  clouds  of  smoke,  the  crashing  shell,  and  the  whistling 
balls,  fighting  like  a  private  soldier,  his  long  sword  doing  hard 
work  in  the  melee,  and  carving  its  way  as  did  the  trenchant 
weapons  of  the  ancient  knights.  This  spirit  of  the  thorough 
cavalier  in  Hampton  is  worth  dwelling  on.  Under  the  braid  of 
the  Major-General  was  the  brave  soul  of  the  fearless  soldier,  the 


HAMPTON.  67 

"  fighting  man."  It  was  not  a  merit  in  him  or  in  others  that 
they  gave  up  wealth,  business,  elegance,  all  the  comforts,  con 
veniences,  and  serene  enjoyments  of  life,  to  live  hard  and  fight 
hard ;  to  endure  heat,  cold,  hunger,  thirst,  exhaustion,  and  pain, 
without  a  murmur ;  but  it  was  a  merit  in  this  brave  soldier  and 
gentleman  that  he  did  more  than  his  duty,  met  breast  to  breast 
in  single  combat  the  best  swordsmen  of  the  Federal  army, 
counted  his  life  as  no  more  than  a  private  soldier's,  and  seemed 
to  ask  nothing  better  than  to  pour  out  his  heart's  blood  for  the 
cause  in  which  he  fought.  This  personal  heroism — and  Hampton 
had  .it  to  a  grand  extent — attracts  the  admiration  of  troops.  But 
there  is  something  better — the  power  of  brain  and  force  of 
character  which  wins  the  confidence  of  the  Commander-in -Chief. 
When  that  Commander-in-Chief  is  called  Robert  E.  Lee,  it  is 
something  to  have  secured  his  high  regard  and  confidence. 
Hampton  had  won  .the  respect  of  Lee,  and  by  that  "  noblest 
Roman  of  them  all "  his  great  character  and  eminent  services 
were  fully  recognised.  These  men  seemed  to  understand  each 
other,  and  to  be  inspired  by  the  same  sentiment — a  love  of  their 
native  land  which  never  failed,  and  a  willingness  to  spend  and 
be  spent  to  the  last  drop  of  their  blood  in  the  cause  which  they 
had  espoused.  During  General  Stuart's  life,  Hampton  was 
second  in  command  of  the  Virginia  Cavalry ;  but  when  that 
great  cavalier  fell,  he  took  charge  of  the  whole  as  ranking-officer. 
His  first  blow  was  that  resolute  night-attack  on  Sheridan's  force  at 
Mechanicsville,  when  the  enemy  were  driven  in  the  darkness 
from  their  camps,  and  sprang  to  horse  only  in  time  to  avoid  the 
sweeping  sabres  of  the  Southerners — giving  up  from  that  moment 
all  further  attempt  to  enter  Richmond.  Then  came  the  long, 
hard,  desperate  fighting  of  the  whole  year  1864,  and  the  spring  of 
1865.  At  Trevillian/'s,  Sheridan  was  driven  back  and  Charlottes- 
ville  saved  ;  on  the  Weldon  railroad  the  Federal  cavalry,  under 
Kautz  and  Wilson,  was  nearly  cut  to  pieces,  and  broke  in  disorder, 
leaving  on  the  roads  their  wagons,  cannons,  ambulances,  their 
dead  men  and  horses ;  near  Bellfield  the  Federal  column  sent  to 
destroy  the  railroad  was  encountered,  stubbornly  opposed,  and 
driven  back  before  they  could  burn  the  bridge  at  Hicksford ;  at 


68  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

Burgess'  Mill,  near  Petersburg,  where  General  Grant  made  his 
first  great  blow  with  two  corps  of  infantry,  at  the  Southside 
railroad,  Hampton  met  them  in  front  and  flank,  fought  them  all 
an  October  day  nearly,  lost  his  brave  son  Preston,  dead  from  a 
bullet  on  the  field,  but  in  conjunction  with  Mahone,  that  hardy 
fighter,  sent  the  enemy  in  haste  back  to  their  works  ;  thus  saving 
for  the  time  the  great  war  artery  of  the  Southern  army.  Thence 
forward,  until  he  was  sent  to  South  Carolina,  Hampton  held  the 
right  of  Lee  in  the  woods  of  Dinwiddie,  guarding  with  his  cavalry 
cordon  the  line  of  the  Kowanty,  and  defying  all  comers.  Stout, 
hardy,  composed,  smiling,  ready  to  meet  any  attack — in  those 
last  days  of  the  strange  year  1864,  he  seemed  to  my  eyes  the 
beau  ideal  of  a  soldier.  The  man  appeared  to  be  as  firm  as  a 
rock,  as  immovably  rooted  as  one  of  the  gigantic  live-oaks  of  his 
native  country.  When  I  asked  him  one  day  if  he  expected  to' 
be  attacked  soon,  he  laughed  and  said :  "  No ;  the  enemy's  cavalry 
are  afraid  to  show  their  noses  beyond  their  infantry."  Nor  did 
the  Federal  cavalry  ever  achieve  any  results  in  that  region  until 
the  ten  or  fifteen  thousand  crack  cavalry  of  General  Sheridan 
came  to  ride  over  the  two  thousand  men,  on  starved  and  broken- 
down  horses,  of  General  Fitz  Lee,  in  April,  1865. 

From  Virginia,  in  the  dark  winter  of  1864,  Hampton  was 
sent  to  oppose  with  his  cavalry  the  advance  of  General  Sherman, 
and  the  world  knows  how  desperately  he  fought  there  on  his 
natale  solum.  More  than  ever  before  it  was  sabre  to  sabre,  and 
Hampton  was  still  in  front.  When  the  enemy  pressed  on  to 
Columbia  he  fell  back,  fighting  from  street  to  street,  and  so  con 
tinued  fighting  until  the  thunderbolt  fell  in  South  Carolina,  as  it 
had  fallen  in  Virginia  at  Appomattox,  and  the  struggle  ended. 
The  sword  that  Hampton  sheathed  that  day  was  one  which  no 
soil  of  bad  faith,  cruelty,  or  dishonour  had  ever  tainted.  It  was 
the  blade  of  a  brave  and  irreproachable  chevalier,  of  a  man  who 
throughout  the  most  desperate  and  embittered  conflict  of  all  his- 
,tory  had ,  kept  his  ancestral  name  from  every  blot,  and  had 
proved  himself  upon  a  hundred  battle-fields  the  worthy  son  of 
the  "  mighty  men  of  old." 

Such,  in  rough  outline,  was  this  brave  and  kindly  soldier  and 


HAMPTON.  69 

gentleman,  as  he  passed  before  our  eyes  in  Virginia,  "  working 
his  work."  Seeing  him  often,  in  camp,  on  the  field,  in  bright 
days,  and  when  the  sky  was  darkest,  the  present  writer  looked 
upon  him  as  a  noble  spirit,  the  truthful  representative  of  a  great 
and  vigorous  race.  Brave,  just,  kindly,  courteous,  with  the  ten 
derness  of  a  woman  under  that  grave  exterior ;  devoted  to  his 
principles,  for  which  he  fought  and  would  have  died  ;  loving  his 
native  land  with  a  love  "  passing  the  love  of  woman ;  "  proud, 
but  never  haughty  ;  not  so  much  condescending  to  men  of  low 
estate,  as  giving  them — if  they  were  soldiers — the  warm  right 
hand  of  fellowship ;  merciful,  simple-minded ;  foremost  in  the 
fight,  but  nowhere  to  be  seen  in  the  antechamber  of  living  man ; 
with  a  hand  shut  tight  upon  the  sword-hilt,  but  open  as  day  to 
"  melting  charity ;  "  counting  his  life  as  nothing  at  the  call  of 
honour ;  contending  with  stubborn  resolution  for  the  faifeh  that 
was  in  him;  never  cast  down,  never  wavering,  never  giving 
back  until  the  torrent  bore  him  away,  but  fighting  to  the"  last 
with  that  heroic  courage,  born  in  his  blood,  for  the  independence 
of  his  country.  Such  was  Wade  Hampton,  of  South  Carolina. 
There  are  those,  perhaps,  who  will  malign  him  in  these  dark 
days,  when  no  sun  shines.  But  the  light  is  yonder,  behind  the 
cloud  and  storm ;  some  day  it  will  shine  out,  and  a  million  rush 
lights  will  not  be  able  to  extinguish  it.  There  are  others  who 
will  call  him  traitor,  and  look,  perhaps,  with  pity  and  contempt 
upon  this  page  which  claims  for  him  a  noble  place  among  the 
illustrious  figures  shining  all  along  the  coasts  of  history  like 
beacon  lights  above  the  storm.  Traitor  let  it  be ;  one  hundred 
years  ago  there  were  many  in  the  South,  and  they  fought  over 
the  same  ground.  Had  the  old  Revolution  failed,  those  men 
would  have  lived  for  ever,  as  Hampton  and  his  associates  in  the 
recent  conflict  will.  "Surrender,"  written  at  the  end  of  this 
great  history,  cannot  mar  its  glory  ;  failure  cannot  blot  its  splen 
dour.  The  name  and  fame  of  Hampton  will  endure  as  long  as 
loyalty  and  courage  are  respected  by  the  human  race.^ 


IV. 
ASHBY. 


I. 

IN  the  Yallej  of  Virginia,  the  glory  of  two  men  outshines 
that  of  all  others ;  two  figures  were  tallest,  best  beloved,  and  to 
day  are  most  bitterly  mourned.  One  was  Jackson,  the  other* 
Ashby.  The  world  knows  all  about  Jackson,  but  has  little 
knowledge  of  Ashby.  I  was  reading  a  stupid  book  the 
other  day  in  which  he  was  represented  as  a  guerilla — almost  as 
a  robber  and  highwayman.  Ashby  a  guerilla  ! — that '  great, 
powerful,  trained,  and  consummate  fighter  of  infantry,  cavalry, 
and  artillery,  in  the  hardest  fought  battles  of  the  Valley  cam 
paign  !  Ashby  a  robber  and  highwayman  ! — that  soul  and  perfect 
mirror  of  chivalry !  It  is  to  drive  away  these  mists  of  stupid  or 
malignant  scribblers  that  the  present  writer  designs  recording 
here  the  actual  truth  of  Ashby's  character  and  career.  Apart 
from  what  he  performed,  he  was  a  personage  to  whom  attached 
and  still  attaches  a  never-dying  interest.  His  career  was  all 
romance — it  was  as  brief,  splendid,  and  evanescent  as  a  dream — 
but,  after  all,  it  was  the  man  Turner  Ashby  who  was  the  real 
attraction.  It  was  the  man  whom  the  people  of  the  Shenandoah 
Valley  admire,  rather  than  his  glorious  record.  There  was  some 
thing  grander  than  the  achievements  of  this  soldier,  and  that  was 
the  soldier  himself. 

Ashby  first  attracted  attention  in  the  spring  of  1862,  when 
Jackson  made  his  great  campaign  in  the  Valley,  crushing  one 
after  another  Banks,  Milroy,  Shields,  Fremont,  and  their  asso 
ciates.  Among  the  brilliant  figures,  the  hard  fighters  grouped 


ASHBY.  71 

around  the  man  of  Kernstown  and  Port  Eepublic  at  that  time, 
Ashby  was  perhaps  the  most  notable  and  famous.  As  the  great 
majority  of  my  readers  never  saw  the  man,  a  personal  outline 
of  him  here  in  the  beginning  may  interest.  Even  on  this 
soil  there  are  many  thousands  who  never  met  that  model  cheva 
lier  and  perfect  type  of  manhood.  He  lives  in  all  memories  and 
hearts,  but  not  in  all  eyes. 

What  the  men  of  Jackson  saw  at  the  head  of  the  Yalley 
cavalry  in  the  spring  of  1862,  was  a  man  rather  below  the  mid 
dle  height,  with  an  active  and  vigorous  frame,  clad  in  plain  Con 
federate  gray.  His  brown  felt  hat  was  decorated  with  a  black 
feather ;  his  uniform  was  almost  without  decorations :  his  cavalry 
boots,  dusty  or  splashed  with  mud,  carne  to  the  knee  ;  and  around 
his  waist  he  wore  a  sash  and  plain  leather  belt,  holding  pistol 
and  sabre.  The  face  of  this  man  of  thirty  or  a  little  more,  was 
noticeable.  His  complexion  was  as  dark  as  that  of  an  Arab ; 
his  eyes  of  a  deep  rich  brown,  sparkled  under  well  formed 
brows ;  and  two  thirds  of  his  face  was  covered  by  a  huge  black 
beard  and  moustache ;  the  latter  curling  at  the  ends,  the  former 
reaching  to  his  breast.  There  was  thus  in  the  face  of  the 
cavalier  something  Moorish^  and  brigandish ;  but  all  idea  of  a 
melodramatic  personage  disappeared  as  you  pressed  his  hand, 
looked  into  his  eyes,  and  spoke  to  him. .  The  brown  eyes,  which 
would  flash  superbly  in  battle,  were  the  softest  and  most  friendly 
imaginable ;  the  voice,  which  could  thrill  his  men  as  it  rang  like 
a  clarion  in  the  charge,  was  the  perfection  of  mild  courtesy.  He 
was  as  simple  and  "  friendly  "  as  a  child  in  all  his  words,  move 
ments,  and  the  carriage  of  his  person.  You  could  see  from  his 
dress,  his  firm  tread,  his  open  and  frank  glance,  that  he  was  a 
thorough  soldier — indeed  he  always  "  looked  like  work  " — but 
under  the  soldier,  as  plainly  was  the  gentleman.  Such  in  his 
plain  costume,  with  his  simple  manner  and  retiring  modesty, 
was  Ashby,  whose  name  and  fame,  a  brave  comrade  has  truly 
said,  will  endure  as  long  as  the  mountains  and  valleys  which  he 
defended. 


72  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 


II. 

The  achievements  of  Ashbj  can  be  barely  touched  on  here — 
history  will  set  them  in  its  purest  gold.  The  pages  of  the  splen 
did  record  can  only  be  glanced  at  now ;  months  of  fighting 
must  here  be  summed  up  and  dismissed  in  a  few  sentences. 

To  look  back  to  his  origin — that  always  counts  for  something 
— be  was  the  son  of  a  gentleman  of  Fauquier,  and  up  to  1861 
was  only  known  as  a  hard  rider,  a  gay  companion,  and  the 
kindest-hearted  of  friends.  There  was  absolutely  nothing  in  the 
youth's  character,  apparently,  which  could  detach  him  from  the 
great  mass  of  mediocrities ;  but  under  that  laughing  face,  that 
simple,  unassuming  manner,  was  a  soul  of  fire — the  unbending 
spirit  of  the  hero,  and  no  less  the  genius  of  the  born  master  of 
the  art  of  war.  When  the  revolution  broke  out  Ashby  got  in 
the  saddle,  and  spent  most  of  his  time  therein  until  he  fell.  It 
was  at  this  time — on  the  threshold  of  the  war — that  I  saw  him 
first.  I  have  described  his  person — his  bearing  was  full  of  a 
charming  courtesy.  The  low,  sweet  voice  made  you  his  friend 
before  you  knew  it;  and  so  modest  and  .unassuming  was  his 
demeanour  that  a  child  would  instinctively  have  sought  his  side 
and  confided  in  him.  The  wonder  of  wonders  to  me,  a  few 
months  afterwards,  was  that  this  unknown  youth,  with  the  sim 
ple  smile,  and  the  retiring,  almost  shy  demeanour,  had  become 
the  right  hand  of  Jackson,  the  terror  of  the  enemy,  and  had 
fallen  near  the  bloody  ground  of  Port  Eepublic,  mourned  by 
the  whole  nation  of  Virginia. 

Virginia  was  his  first  and  last  love.  When  he  went  to  Har 
per's  Ferry  in  April,  1861,  with  his  brother  Eichard's  cavalry 
company,  some  one  said  :  "  Well,  Ashby,  what  flag  are  we  going 
to  fight  under — the  Palmetto,  or  what  ?  "  Ashby  took  off  his 
hat,  and  exhibited  a  small  square  of  silk  upon  which  was 
painted  the  Virginia  shield — the  Virgin  trampling  on  the  tyrant. 
"  That  is  the  flag  /intend  to  fight  under,"  was  his  reply  ;  and 
he  accorded  it  his  paramount  fealty  to  the  last.  Soon  after  this 
incident  active  service  commenced  on  the  Upper  Potomac ;  and 


ASHBY.  73 

an  event  occurred  which  changed  Ashby's  whole  character. 
His  brother  Eichard,  while  on  a  scout  near  Komney,  with  a 
small  detachment,  was  attacked  by  a  strong  party  of  the  enemy, 
his  command  dispersed,  and  as  he  attempted  to  leap  a  "  cattle- 
stop"  in  the  railroad,  his  horse  fell  with  him.  The  enemy 
rushed  upon  him,  struck  him  cruelly  with  their  sabres,  and 
killed  him  before  he  could  rise.  Ashby  came  up  at  the  moment, 
and  with  eight  men  charged  them,  killing  many  of  them  with 
his  own  hand.  But  his  brother  was  dead — the  man  whom  he 
had  loved  more  than  his  own  life  ;  and  thereafter  he  seemed  like 
another  man.  Richard  Ashby  was  buried  on  the  banks  of  the 
Potomac — his  brother  nearly  fainted  at  the  grave  ;  then  he  went 
back  to  his  work.  "  Ashby  is  now  a  devoted  man,"  said  one 
who  knew  him;  and  his 'career  seemed  to  justify  the  words. 
He  took  command  of  his  company,  was  soon  promoted  to  the 
rank  of  a  field  officer,  and  from  that  moment  he  was  on  the  track 
of  the  enemy  day  and  night.  Did  private  vengeance  actuate 
the  man,  once  so  kind  and  sweet-tempered?  I  know  not;  but 
something  from  this  time  forward  seemed  to  spur  him  on  to 
unflagging  exertion  and  ceaseless  activity.  Day  and  night  he 
was  in  the  saddle.  Mounted  upon  his  fleet  white  horse,  he  would 
often  ride,  in  twenty -four  hours,  along  seventy  miles  of  front, 
inspecting  his  pickets,  instructing  his  detachments,  and  watching 
the  enemy's  movements  at  every  point.  Here  to-day,  to-morrow 
he  would  be  seen  nearly  a  hundred  miles  distant.  The  lithe 
figure  on  the  white  horse  "came  and  went  like  a  dream,"  said 
one  who  knew  him  at  that  time.  And  when  he  appeared  it  was 
almost  always  the  signal  for  an  attack,  a  raid,  or  a  "  scout,"  in 
which  blood  would  flow. 

In  the  spring  of  1862,  when  Jackson  fell  back  from  Winches 
ter,  Ashby,  then  promoted  to  the  rank  of  Colonel,  commanded 
all  his  cavalry.  He  was  already  famous  for  his  wonderful 
activity,  his  heroic  courage,  and  that  utter  contempt  for  danger 
which  was  born  in  his  blood.  On  the  Potomac,  near  Shepherds- 
town,  he  had  ridden  to  the  top  of  a  crest,  swept' by  the  hot  fire 
of  the  enemy's  sharpshooters  near  at  hand ;  and  pacing  slowly 
up  and  down  on  his  milk-white  horse,  looked  calmly  over  his 


74  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

shoulder  at  his  foes,  who  directed  upon  him  a  storm  of  bullets. 
He  was  now  to  give  a  proof  more  striking  still  of  his  fearless 
nerve.  Jackson  slowly  retired  from  Winchester,  the  cavalry 
under  Ashby  bringing  up  the  rear,  with  the  enemy  closely  press 
ing  them.  The  long  column  defiled  through  the  town,  and 
Ashby  remained  the  last,  sitting  his  horse  in  the  middle  of  Lou- 
doun  street  as  the  Federal  forces  poured  in.  The  solitary  horse 
man,  gazing  at  them  with  so  much  nonchalance,  was  plainly  seen 
by  the  Federal  officers,  and  two  mounted  men  were  detached  to 
make  a  circuit  by  the  back  streets,  and  cut  off  his  retreat. 
Ashby  either  did  not  see  this  manoeuvre,  or  paid  no  attention  to 
it.  He  waited  until  the  Federal  column  was  nearly  upon  him, 
and  had  opened  a  hot  fire — then  he  turned  his  horse,  waved  his 
hat  around  his  head,  and  uttering  a  cheer  of  defiance,  galloped 
off.  All  at  once,  as  he  galloped  down  the  street,  he  saw  before* 
him  the  two  cavalrymen  sent  to  cut  off  and  capture  him.  To  a 
man  like  Ashby,  inwardly  chafing  at  being  compelled  to  retreat, 
no  sight  could  be  more  agreeable.  Here  was  an  opportunity  to 
vent  his  spleen  ;  and  charging  the  two  mounted  men,  he  was  soon 
upon  them.  One  fell  with  a  bullet  through  his  breast ;  and, 
coming  opposite  the  other,  Ashby  seized  him  by  the  throat, 
dragged  him  from  his  saddle,  and  putting  spur  to  his  horse,  bore 
him  off.  This  scene,  which  some  readers  may  set  down  for 
romance,  was  witnessed  by  hundreds  both  of  the  Confederate  and 
the  Federal  army. 

During  Jackson's  retreat  Ashby  remained  in  command  of  the 
rear,  fighting  at  every  step  with  his  cavalry  and  horse  artillery, 
under  Captain  Chew.  It  was  dangerous  to  press  such  a  man. 
His  sharp  claws  drew  blood.  As  the  little  column  retired  sul 
lenly  up  the  valley,  fighting  off  the  heavy  columns  of  General 
Banks,  Ashby  was  in  the  saddle  day  and  night,  and  his  guns 
were  never  silent.  The  infantry  sank  to  sleep  with  that  thunder 
in  their  ears,  and  the  same  sound  was  their  reveille  at  dawn. 
Weary  at  last  of  a  proceeding  so  unproductive,  General  Banks 
ceased  the  pursuit  and  fell  back  to  Winchester,  when  Ashby 
pursued,  in  his  turn,  and  quickly  sent  intelligence  to  Jackson, 
which  brought  him  back  to  Kernstown.  The  battle  there  fol- 


ASHBY.  75 

lowed,  and  Ashby  held  the  turnpike,  pressing  forward  with 
invincible  ardour,  flanking  the  Federal  forces,  and  nearly  getting 
in  their  rear.  When  Jackson  was  forced  to  retire,  he  again  held 
the  rear ;  and  continued  in  front  of  the  enemy,  eternally  skir 
mishing  with  them,  until  Jackson  again  advanced  to  attack 
General  Banks  at  Strasburg  and  Winchester.  It  was  on  a  bright 
May  morning  that  Ashby,  moving  in  front,  struck  the  Federal 
column  of  cavalry  in  transitu  north  of  Strasburg,  and  scattered 
them  like  a  hurricane.  Separated  from  his  command,  but  burst 
ing  with  an  ardour  which  defied  control,  he  charged,  by  himself, 
about  five  hundred  Federal  horsemen  retreating  in  disorder, 
snatched  a  guidon  from  the  hands  of  its  bearer,  and  firing  right 
and  left  into  the  column,  summoned  the  men  to  surrender. 
Many  did  so,  and  the  rest  galloped  on,  followed  by  Ashby,  to 
Winchester,  where  he  threw  the  guidon,  with  a  laugh,  to  a 
friend,  who  afterwards  had  it  hung  up  in  the  Library  of  the 
Capitol  at  Eichmond. 

III. 

The  work  of  Ashby  then  began  in  earnest.  The  affair  with 
General  Banks  was  only  a  skirmish — the  wars  of  the  giants  fol 
lowed. 

Jackson,  nearly  hemmed  in  by  bitter  and  determined  foes, 
fell  back  to  escape  destruction,  and  on  his  track  rushed  the 
heavy  columns  of  Shields  and  Fremont,  which,  closing  in  at 
'Strasburg  and  Front  Royal,  were  now  hunting  down  the  lion. 
It  was  then  and  there  that  Ashby  won  his  fame  as  a  cavalry 
officer,  and  attached  to  every  foot  of  ground  over  which  he 
fought  some  deathless  tradition.  The  reader  must  look  else 
where  for  a  record  of  those  achievements.  Space  would  fail  me 
were  I  to  touch  with  the  pen's  point  the  hundredth  part  of  that 
splendid  career.  On  every  hill,  in  every  valley,  at  every  bridge, 
Ashby  thundered  and  lightened  with  his  cavalry  and  artillery. 
Bitterest  of  the  bitter  was  the  cavalier  in  those  moments  ;  a  man 
sworn  to  hold  his  ground  or  die.  He  played  with  death,  and 
dared  it  everywhere.  From  every  hill  came  the  roar  of  his  guns 


76  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

and  the  sharp  crack  of  his  sharpshooters,  but  the  music,  much 
as  he  loved  it — and  he  did  love  it  with  all  his  soul — was  less 
sweet  to  him  than  the  clash  of  sabres.  It  was  in  hand-to-hand 
fighting  that  he  seemed  to  take  the  greatest  pleasure.  In  front 
of  his  column,  sweeping  forward  to  the  charge,  Ashby  was 
"  happy."  Coming  to  the  Shenandoah  near  Newmarket,  he 
remained  behind  with  a  few  men  to  destroy  the  bridge,  and  here 
took  place  an  event  which  may  seem  too  trifling  to  be  recorded, 
but  which  produced  a  notable  effect  upon  the  army.  While 
retreating  alone  before  a  squadron  of  the  enemy's  cavalry  in 
hot  pursuit  of  him,  his  celebrated  white  horse  was  mortally 
wounded.  Furious  at  this,  Ashby  cut  the  foremost  of  his  assail 
ants  out  of  the  saddle  with  his  sabre,  and  safely  reached  his 
command ;  but  the  noble  charger  was  staggering  under  him,  and 
bleeding  to  death.  He  dismounted,  caressed  for  an  instant,  with-' 
out  speaking,  the  proud  neck,  and  then  turned  away.  The  his 
toric  steed  was  led  off  to  his  death,  his  eyes  glaring  with  rage  it 
seemed  at  the  enemy  still ;  and  Ashby  returned  to  his  work, 
hastening  to  meet  the  fatal  bullet  which  in  turn  was  to  strike 
him.  The  death  of  the  white  horse  who  had  passed  unscathed 
through  so  many  battles,  preceded  only  by  a  few  days  that  of 
his  rider,  whom  no  ball  had  ever  yet  touched.  It  was  on  the 
4th  or  5th  of  June,  just  before  the  battle  of  Cross  Keys,  that 
he  ambuscaded  and  captured  Sir  Percy  Wyndham,  commander 
of  Fremont's  cavalry  advance.  Sir  Percy  had  publicly  an 
nounced  his  intention  to  "bag  Ashby;"  but  unwarily  advancing 
upon  a  small  decoy  in  the  road,  he  found  himself  suddenly- 
attacked  in  flank  and  rear  by  Ashby  in  person ;  and  he  and  his 
squadron  of  sixty  or  seventy  men  were  taken  prisoners.  That 
was  the  last  cavalry  fight  in  which  the  great  leader  took  part. 
His  days  were  numbered — death  had  marked  him.  But  to  the 
last  he  was  what  he  had  always  been,  unresting,  fiery,  ever  on 
the  enemy's  track ;  and  he  died  in  harness.  It  was  on  the  very 
same  evening,  I  believe,  that  while  commanding  the  rear-guard 
of  Jackson,  he  formed  the  design  of  flanking  and  attacking 
the  enemy's  infantry,  and  sent  to  Jackson  for  troops.  A  brave 
associate,  Colonel  Bradley  Johnson,  described  him  at  that  mo- 


ASHBY.  77 

ment,  when  the  bolt  was  about  to  fall;  "He  was  riding  at  the 
head  of  the  column  with  General  Ewell,  his  black  face  in  a  blaze 
of  enthusiasm.  Every  feature  beamed  with  the  joy  of  the  sol 
dier.  He"  was  gesticulating  and  pointing  out  the  country  and 
position  to  General  Ewell.  I -could  imagine  what  he  was  saying 
by  the  motions  of  his  right  arm.  I  pointed  him  out  to  my 
adjutant — '  Look  at  Ashby  !  see  how  he  is  enjoying  himself! ' ' 
The  moment  had  come.  With  the  infantry,  two  regiments  sent 
him  by  Jackson,  he  made  a  rapid  detour  to  the  right,  passed 
through  a  field  of  waving  wheat,  and  approached  a  belt  of  woods 
upon  which  the  golden  sunshine  of  the  calm  June  evening  slept 
in  mellow  splendour.  In  the  edge  of  this  wood  Colonel  Kane, 
of  the  Pennsylvania  "Bucktails,"  was  drawn  up,  and  soon  the 
crash  of  musketry  resounded  from  the  bushes  along  a  fence  on 
the  edge  of  the  forest,  where  the  enemy  were  posted.  Ashby 
rushed  to  the  assault  with  the  fiery  enthusiasm  of  his  blood. 
Advancing  at  the  head  of  the  Fifty-eighth  Virginia  in  front, 
while  Colonel  Johnson  with  the  Marylanders  attacked  the  enemy 
in  flank,  he  had  his  horse  shot  under  him,  but  sprang  up, 
waving  his  sword,  and  shouting,  "Virginians,  charge!"  These 
words  were  his  last.  From  the  enemy's  line,  now  within  fifty 
yards,  came  a  storm  of  bullets ;  one  pierced  his  breast,  and  he 
fell  at  the  very  moment  when  the  Bucktails  broke,  and  were 
pursued  by  the  victorious  Southerners.  Amid  that  triumphant 
shout  the  great  soul  of  Ashby  passed  away.  Almost  before  his 
men  could  raise  him  he  was  dead.  He  had  fallen  as  he  wished 
to  fall — leading  a  charge,  in  full  war  harness,  fighting  to  the  last. 
Placed  on  a  horse  in  front  of  a  cavalryman,  his  body  was  borne 
out  of  the  wood,  just  as  the  last  rays  of  sunset  tipped  with  fire 
the  foliage  of  the  trees ;  and  as  the  form  of  the  dead  chieftain 
was  borne  along  the  lines  of  infantry  drawn  up  in  column, 
exclamations  broke  forth,  and  the  bosoms  of  men  who  had 
advanced  without  a  tremor  into  the  bloodiest  gulfs  of  battle, 
were  shaken  by  uncontrollable  sobs.  The  dead  man  had  become 
their  beau-ideal  of  a  soldier;  his  courage,  fire,  dash,  and  unshrink 
ing  nerve  had  won  the  hearts  of  these  rough  men  ;  and  now 
when  they  read  upon  that  pale  face  the  stamp  of  the  hand  of 


78  WEARIXG  OF  THE   GRAY. 

death,  a  black  pall  seemed  slowly  to  descend — the  light  of  the 
June  evening  was  a  mockery.  That  sunset  was  the  glory  which 
fell  on  the  soldier's  brow  as  he  passed  away.  Never  did  day 
light  to  his  death  a  nobler  spirit. 


IV. 

Mere  animal  courage  is  a  common  trait.  It  was  not  the  chief 
glory  of  this  remarkable  man  that  he  cared  nothing  for  peril, 
daring  it  with  an  utter  recklessness.  Many  private  soldiers  of 
whom  the  world  never  heard  did  as  much.  The  supremely  beau 
tiful  trait  of  Ashby  was  his  modesty,  his  truth,  his  pure  and 
knightly  honour.  His  was  a  nature  full  of  heroism,  chivalry,  and 
simplicity ;  he  was  not  only  a  great  soldier,  but  a  chevalier, 
inspired  by  the prisca  fides  of  the  past.  "I  was  with  him,"  said* 
a  brave  associate,  "  when  the  first  blow  was  struck  for  the  cause 
which  we  both  had  so  much  at  heart,  and  was  with  him  in  his 
last  fight,  always  knowing  him  to  be  beyond  all  modern  men  in 
chivalry,  as  he  was  equal  to  any  one  in  courage.  He  combined 
the  virtues  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney  with  the  dash  of  Murat.  His 
fame  will  live  in  the  valley  of  Virginia,  outside  of  books,  as 
long  as  its  hills  #nd  mountains  shall  endure." 

Never  was  truer  comparison  than  that  of  Ashby  to  Murat  and 
Sidney  mingled;  but  the  splendid  truth  and  modesty  of  the 
great  English  chevalier  predominated  in  him.  The  Virginian 
had  the  dash  and  fife  of  Murat  in  the  charge,  nor  did  the  glit 
tering  Marshal  at  the  head  of  the  French  cuirassiers  perform 
greater  deeds  of  daring.  But  the  pure  and  spotless  soul  of 
Philip  Sidney,  that  "  mirror  of  chivalry,"  was  the  true  antetype 
of  Ashby's.  Faith,  honour,  truth,  modesty,  a  courtesy  which 
never  failed,  a  loyalty  which  nothing  could  affect — these  were 
the  great  traits  which  made  the  young  Virginian  so  beloved  and 
honoured,  giving  him  the  noble  place  he  held  among  the  men  of 
his  epoch.  No  man  lives  who  can  remember  a  rude  action  of 
his ;  his  spirit  seemed  to  have  been  moulded  to  the  perfect  shape 
of  antique  courtesy;  and  nothing  could  ch'ange  the  pure  gold 
of  his  nature.  His  fault  as  a  soldier  was  a  want  of  discipline ; 


ASHBT.  79 

and  it  has  been  said  with  truth  that  he  resembled  rather  the 
chief  huntsman  of  a  hunting  party  than  a  general — mingling 
•with  his  men  in  bivouac  or  around  the  camp  fire,  on  a  perfect 
equality.  But  what  he  wanted  in  discipline  and  military  rigour 
he  supplied  by  the  enthusiasm  which  he  aroused  in  the  troops. 
They  adored  him,  and  rated  him  before  all  other  leaders.  His 
wish  was  their  guide  in  all  things;  and  upon  the  field  they 
looked  to  him  as  their  war-king.  The  flash  of  his  sabre  as  it 
left  the  scabbard  drove  every  hand  to  the  hilt;  the  sight  of  his 
milk-white  horse  in  front  was  their  signal  for  "  attention,"  and 
the  low  clear  tones  of  Ashby's  order,  "  Follow  me ! "  as  he 
moved  to  the  charge,  had  more  effect  upon  his  men  than  a  hun 
dred  bugles. 

I  pray  my  Northern  reader  who  does  me  the  honour  to  peruse 
this  sketch,  not  to  regard  these  sentences  as  the  mere  rhapsody 
of  enthusiasm.  They  contain  the  truth  of  Ashby,  and  those 
who  served  with  him  will  testify  to  the  literal  accuracy  of  the 
sketch.  He  was  one  of  those  men  who  appear  only  at  long  in 
tervals — a  veritable  realization  of  the  "  hero  "  of  popular  fancy. 
The  old  days  of  knighthood  seemed  to  live  again  as  he  moved 
before  the  eye ;  the  pure  faith  of  the  earlier  years  was  repro 
duced  and  illustrated  in  his  character  and  career.  The  anecdotes 
which  remain  of  his  kindness,  his  courtesy,  and  warmth  of 
heart,  are  trifles  to  those' who  knew  him,  and  required  no  such 
proofs  of  his  sweetness  of  temper  and  character.  It  is  nothing 
to  such  that  when  the  Northern  ladies  about  to  leave  Winches 
ter,  came  and  said,  "General  Ashby,  we  have  nothing  contra 
band  about  us — you  can  search  our  trunks  and  our  persons ;"  he 
replied,  "The  gentlemen  of  Virginia  do  not  search  ladies'  trunks 
or  their  persons,  madam."  He  made  that  reply  because  he  was 
Ashby.  For  this  man  to  have  been  rude,  coarse,  domineering, 
and  insulting  to  unprotected  ladies — as  more  than  one  Federal 
general  at  Winchester  was — that  was  simply  impossible.  He 
might  have  said,  in  the  words  of  the  old  Ulysses,  "  They  live 
their  lives,  I  mine." 

Such  was  the  private  character,  simple,  beautiful,  and  "alto- 


80  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

gether  lovely,"  of  this  man  of  fibre  so  hard  and  unshrinking ; 
of  dash,  nerve,  obstinacy,  and  daring  never  excelled.  Behind 
that  sweet  and  friendly  smile  was  the  stubborn  and  reckless  soul 
of  the  born  fighter.  Under  those  brown  eyes,  as  mild  and  gen 
tle  as  a  girl's,  was  a  brain  of  fire — a  resolution  of  invincible 
strength  which  dared  to  combat  every  adversary,  with  whatever 
odds.  His  intellect,  outside  of  his  profession,  was  rather  medi 
ocre  than  otherwise,  and  he  wrote  so  badly  that  few  of  his  pro 
ductions  are  worth  preserving.  But  in  the  field  he  was  a  master 
mind.  His  eye  for  position  was  that  of  the  born  soldier;  and 
he  was  obliged  to  depend  upon  that  native  faculty,  for  he  had 
never  been  to  West  Point  or  any  other  military  school.  They 
might  have  improved  him — they  could  not  have  made  him. 
God  had  given  him  the  capacity  to  fight  troops;  and  if  the  dic 
tum  of  an  humble  writer,  loving  and  admiring  him  alive,  ancl 
now  mourning  him,  be  regarded  as  unreliable,  take  the  words  of 
Jackson.  That  cool,  taciturn,  and  unexcitable  soldier  never 
gave  praise  which  was  undeserved.  Jackson  knew  Ashby  as 
well  as  one  human  being  ever  knew  another ;  and  after  the  fall 
of  the  cavalier  he  wrote  of  him,  "As  a  partisan  officer,  I  never 
knew  his  superior.  His  daring  was  proverbial,  his  powers  of 
endurance  almost  incredible,  his  tone  of  character  heroic,  and 
his  sagacitv  almost  intuitive  in  divining  the  purposes  and  move 
ments  of  the  enemy."  The  man  who  wrote  these  words — him 
self  daring,  enduring,  and  heroic — had  himself  some  sagacity  in 
"divining  the  purposes  and  movements  of  the  enemy,"  and 
could  recognise  that  trait  in  others. 

The  writer  of  this  page  had  the  honour  to  kno,w  the  dead  chief 
of  the  Yalley  cavalry — to  hear  the  sweet  accents  of  his  friendly 
voice,  and  meet  the  friendly  glance  of  the  loyal  eyes.  It  seems 
to  him  now,  as  he  remembers  Ashby,  that  the  hand  he  touched 
was  that  of  a  veritable  child  of  chivalry.  Never  did  taint  of 
arrogance  or  vanity,  of  rudeness  or  discourtesy,  touch  that  pure 
and  beautiful  spirit.  This  man  of  daring  so  proverbial,  of  pow 
ers  of  endurance  so  incredible,  of  character  so  heroic,  and  of  a 
sagacity  so  unfailing  that  it  drew  forth  the  praise  of  Jackson, 


ASHBY.  81 

was  as  simple  as  a  child,  and  never  seemed  to  dream  that  he  had 
accomplished  anything  to  make  him  famous.  But  famous  he 
was,  and  is,  and  will  be  for  ever.  The  bitter  struggle  in  which 
he  bore  so  noble  a  part  has  ended ;  the  great  flag  under  which 
he  fought  is  furled,  and  none  are  now  so  poor  as  to  do  it  reve 
rence.  But  in  failure,  defeat,  and  ruin,  this  great  name  survives ; 
the  cloud  is  not  so  black  that  the  pure  star  of  Ashby 's  fame 
does  not  shine  out  in  the  darkness.  In  the  memories  and  hearts 
of  the  people  of  the  Valley  his  glory  is  as  fresh  to-day  as  when 
he  fell.  He  rises  up  in  memory,  as  once  before  the  actual  eye — 
the  cavalier  on  his  milk-white  steed,  leading  the  wild  charge,  or 
slowly  pacing  up  and  down  defiantly,  with  proud  face  turned 
over  the  shoulder,  amid  the  bullets.  Others  may  forget  him — 
we  of  the  Valley  cannot.  For  us  his  noble  smile  still  shines  as 
it  shone  amid  those  glorious  encounters  of  the  days  of  Jackson, 
when  from  every  hill-top  he  hurled  defiance  upon  Banks  and 
Fremont,  and  in  every  valley  met  the  heavy  columns  of  the 
Federal  cavalry,  sabre  to  sabre.  He  is  dead,  but  still  lives. 
That  career — brief,  fiery,  crammed  with  glorious  shocks,  with 
desperate  encounters — is  a  thing  of  the  past,  and  Ashby  has 
"passed  like  a  dream  away."  But  it  is  only  the  bodies  of  such 
men  that  die.  All  that  is  noble  in  them  survives.  What  comes 
to  the  mind  now  when  we  pronounce  the  name  of  Ashby,  is 
that  pure  devotion  to  truth  and  honour  which  shone  in  every 
act  of  his  life  ;  that  kind,  good  heart  of  his  which  made  all  love 
him ;  that  resolution  which  he  early  made,  to  spend  the  last 
drop  of  his  blood  for  the  cause  in  which  he  fought ;  and  the 
daring  beyond  all  words,  which  drove  him  on  to  combat  what 
ever  force  was  in  his  front.  We  are  proud — leave  us  that  at 
least — that  this  good  knight  came  of  the  honest  old  Virginia 
blood.  He  tried  to  do  his  duty  ;  and  counted  toil,  and  danger, 
and  hunger,  and  thirst,  and  exhaustion,  as  nothing.  He  died  as 
he  had  lived,  in  harness,  and  fighting  to  the  last.  In  an  un 
known  skirmish,  of  which  not  even  the  name  is  preserved,  the 
fatal  bullet  came ;  the  wave  of  death  rolled  over  him,  and  the 
august  figure  disappeared.  But  that  form  is  not  lost  in  the 


82  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

great  gulf  of  forgotten  things.  Oblivion  cannot  hide  it,  nor 
time  dim  the  splendour  of  the  good  knight's  shield.  The  figure 
of  Ashby,  on  his  milk-white  steed,  his  face  in  "  a  blaze  of  en 
thusiasm,"  his  drawn  sword  in  his  hand— -that  figure  will  truly 
live  in  the  memory  and  heart  of  the  Virginian  as  long  as  the 
battlements  of  the  Blue  Kidge  stand,  and  the  Shenandoah  flows. 


V. 
BEAUREGARD. 

i. 

THE  most  uniformly  fortunate  General  of  the  late  war  was 
Beauregard.  So  marked  was  this  circumstance,  and  so  regularly 
did  victory  perch  upon  his  standard,  that  Daniel,  the  trenchant 
and  hardy  critic  of  the  Examiner,  called  him  Beauregard  Felix. 
Among  the  Romans  that  term  signified  happy,  fortunate,  favoured 
of  the  gods  ;  and  what  is  called  "  good  luck  "  seemed  to  follow 
the  Confederate  leader  to  whom  it  was  applied.  Often  he 
appeared  to  be  outgeneralled,  checkmated,  and  driven  to  the 
"last  ditch,"  but  ever  some  fortunate  circumstance  intervened  to 
change  the  whole  situation.  More  than  once  the  fortune  of  war 
seemed  to  go  against  him,  but  he  always  retrieved  the  day  by 
some  surprising  movement.  In  the  very  beginning  of  his  career, 
at  the  first  great  battle  of  Manassas,  when  his  left  was  about  to 
be  driven  to  hopeless  rout,  his  good  genius  sent  thither  Evans 
and  Jackson,  those  stubborn  obstacles,  and  the  battle  which  was 
nearly  lost  terminated  in  a  victory. 

Of  this  famous  soldier  I  propose  to  record  some  traits  rather 
of  a  personal  than  a  military  character.  As  elsewhere  in  this 
series  of  sketches,  the  writer's  aim  will  be  to  draw  the  outline  of 
the  man  rather  than  the  official.  History  will  busy  itself  with 
that  "official"  phase;  here  it  is  rather  the  human  being,  as  he 
lived  and  moved,  and  looked  when  "  off  duty,"  that  I  aim  to 
present.  The  first  great  dramatic  scene  of  the  war,  the  attack 
on  Sumter,  the  stubborn  and  victorious  combat  of  Shiloh,  the 
defence  of  Charleston  against  Grilmore,  the  assault  upon  Butler 


84  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

near  Bermuda  Hundred,  and  the  mighty  struggles  at  Petersburg, 
will  not  enter  into  this  sketch  at  all.  I  beg  to  conduct  the 
reader  back  to  the  summer  of  the  year  1861,  and  to  the  plains 
of  Manassas,  where  I  first  saw  Beauregard.  My  object  is  to 
describe  the  personal  traits  and  peculiarities  of  the  great  Creole 
as  he  then  appeared  to  the  Virginians,  among  whom  he  came  for 
the  first  time. 

He  superseded  Bonham  in  command  of  the  forces  at  Manassas 
about  the  first  of  June,  1881,  and  the  South  Carolinians  said 
one  day,  "  Old  Bory's  corne !  "  Soon  the  Virginia  troops  had  an 
opportunity  of  seeing  this  "  Old  Bory,"  who  seemed  so  popular 
with  the  Palmettese.  He  did  not  appear  with  any  of  the 
"  pride,  pomp,  and  circumstance  of  glorious  war."  No  flag  was 
unfurled  before  him;  no  glittering  staff  officers  were  seen  gal-, 
loping  to  and  fro  ;  for  some  days  the  very  presence  of  the  man 
of  Sumter  was  merely  rumour.  Then  the  troops  began  to  take 
notice  of  a  quiet-looking  individual  in  an  old  blue  uniform  coat 
of  the  United  States  Army,  almost  undecorated,  who,  mounted 
on  an  unimposing  animal  not  at  all  resembling  a  "war  horse," 
moved  about  quite  unattended,  to  inspect  the  works  in  process 
of  construction,  or  select  new  sites  for  others.  Often  this  solitary 
horseman-  of  the  reserved  demeanour  and  unobtrusive  air  was 
seen  motionless  in  the  middle  of  the  plains,  gazing  around  him; 
or  in  clear  relief  against  the  sky,  or  looking  toward  Bull  Run, 
he  peopled  the  landscape  doubtless  with  imaginary  squadrons  in 
hot  conflict.  Then  another  step  was  taken  by  the  men  in 
making  acquaintance  with  the  new  commander.  The  silent 
horseman  would  pause  as  he  passed  by  the  camps,  and  speak  to 
the  sentinels — briefly  but  not  stiffly.  When  they  returned  to 
their  quarters  they  told  how  General  Beauregard  had  thus 
stopped  upon  his  way,  spoken  with  them  familiarly  as  comrade 
to  comrade,  and  returned  their  salute  at  parting,  with  his  finger 
to  the  rim  of  his  cap.  Finally,  the  troops  had  "  a  good  look  at 
him."  He  reviewed  a  line  regiment  from  Tennessee,  and  all 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  his  soldierly  figure  with  admiration — 
upon  the  lithe  and  sinewy  form,  the  brunette  face  and  sparkling 
black  eyes,  the  erect  head,  the  firm  seat  in  the  saddle,  and  the 


BEAU  REGARD.  85 

air  of  command.  When  this  nervous  figure  passed  at  a  rapid 
gallop. along  the  line,  the  keen  eyes  peering  from  beneath  the 
Zouave  cap,  the  raw  volunteers  felt  the  presence  of  a  soldier. 

The  hard  battle  of  Manassas  followed,  and  as  noon  approached 
on  that  famous  twenty-first  of  July,  the  Southern  army  seemed 
completely  flanked — Beauregard  outgeneralled.  McDowell  had 
turned  the  Confederate  left,  and,  driving  Evans,  Bee,  and  Bartow 
before  him,  seized  on  the  Henry-House  hill,  the  key  of  the 
whole  position.  Beauregard  was  four  miles  off,  awaiting  an 
advance  of  his  right  wing  and  centre  on  the  Federal  rear  at 
Centreville,  ordered  hours  before.  The  order  miscarried,  and 
the  advance  was  not  made  ;  at  near  two  o'clock  the  troops  were 
still  within  the  lines  of  Bull  Run,  and  on  the  extreme  left 
nothing  but  the  two  thousand  six  hundred  and  eleven  rnuskets  of 
Jackson,  with  a  few  companies  of  Bee,  was  interposed  between 
the  Southern  troops  and  destruction.  About  thirty  thousand 
men  under  General  Hunter  were  advancing  upon  about  three 
thousand — and  to  this  critical  point  Beauregard  now  went  at  a 
swift  gallop,  with  General  Johnston.  The  scene  which  followed 
was  a  splendid  exhibition  of  personal  magnetism.  Bee's  men 
were  routed  ;  his  ranks  broken  to  pieces ;  the  battalions  which 
had  breasted  the  torrent  had  been  shattered  by  the  weight  of  the 
huge  wave,  and  were  now  scarcely  more  than  a  crowd  of  fugi 
tives.  Johnston,  with  the  fiery  dash  which  lay  perdu  under 
his  grave  exterior,  caught  the  colours  of  an  Alabama  regiment, 
calling  on  the  men  to  follow  him  ;  and  Beauregard  passed  along 
the  lines  at  full  gallop,  rallying  the  men  amid  the  terrific  fire. 
If  he  is  ever  painted,  it  should  be  as  he  appeared  that  day ; 
eyes  flaming,  the  sallow  face  in  a  blaze  of  enthusiasm,  the  drawn 
sword  pointing  to  the  enemy,  as  with  a  sonorous  voice  which 
rang  above  the  firing,  he  summoned  the  men  to  stand  for  their 
firesides,  and  all  they  held  dear  upon  earth.  Beauregard  was 
the  superb  leader  at  that  moment,  and  the  cheeks  of  the  gray- 
haired  soldier  of  to-day  must  flush  sometimes  as  he  recalls 
that  death  grapple  in  which  the  flash  of  his  sword  led  the 
charge. 

When  not  thus  filled  with  hot  blood,  the  face  of  the  great 


86  WEARING    OF    THE    GRAY. 

Creole,  even  amid  the  heat  of  battle,  was  composed,  firm,  set,  and 
did  not  exhibit,  save  in  a  slight  deepening  of  the  dusky  tint  of 
the  complexion,  any  unwonted  feeling.  The  man  was  quiet, 
silent,  and  seemed  to  be  waiting  calmly.  I  never  saw  a  smile 
upon  his  face  until  some  months  after  the  battle,  when  President 
Davis  came  to  review  the  troops  at  Fairfax  Court- House.  That 
smile  was  caused  by  a  little  incident  which  may  entertain  some 
readers.  The  present  writer  was  sent  one  day  as  aide-de-camp 
in  waiting,  to  escort  the  wife  and  little  son  of  General  Stuart 
from  the  Court-House  to  the  nearest  station  on  the  Orange  rail 
road  ;  when,  just  as  the  ambulance  reached  a  point  midway 
between  the  two  points,  a  company  of  cavalry  made  its  appear 
ance  in  front,  and  the  officer  commanding  requested  that  the 
vehicle  should  draw  out  of  the  road  to  "  make  way  for  the 
President."  This  was  done  at  once,  and  soon  his  Excellency/ 
President  Davis,  appeared,  riding  between  Stuart  and  Beaure 
gard — the  latter  wearing  his  dress  uniform  with  a  Zouave  cap, 
the  crown  of  which  was  an  intensely  dazzling  circle  of  scarlet, 
burning  in  the  sunshine.  As  soon  as  young  J.  E.  B.  Stuart,  a 
little  gentleman  who  used  to  call  himself  General  Stuart,  Jr., 
saw  his  father,  he  stretched  out  his  arms  and  exclaimed,  "  Papa, 
papa !  "  in  a  tone  so  enthusiastic  that  it  attracted  attention,  and 
General  Stuart  said,  "  This  is  my  family,  Mr.  President." 
Whereupon  Mr.  Davis  stopped,  saluted  the  young  lady,  patted 
the  boy  upon  the  head,  and  endeavoured  to  attract  his  attention, 
in  which  he  failed  however,  as  the  boy's  mind  was  absorbed  in 
the  effort  to  climb  before  his  father.  The  scene  made  everybody 
laugh,  from  the  grave  President  to  the  men  of  the  escort,  and 
among  the  rest  General  Beauregard.  His  laugh  was  pecu 
liar  ;  the  eyes  sparkled,  the  firm  muscles  slowly  moved,  and  the 
white  teeth  came  out  with  a  quite  startling  effect  under  the 
heavy  black  moustache.  When  the  cavalcade  passed  on  he  was 
still  smiling. 

I  pray  the  reader  to  pardon  this  long  description  of  a  smile. 
The  strangest  of  all  phenomena  is  the  manner  in  which  trifles 
cling  to  the  memory. 

One  more  personal  recollection  of  Beauregard  as  I  saw  him — 


BEAU  REGARD.  87 

not  on  review,  neither  at  Manassas,  Fairfax,  or  elsewhere ;  a 
stiff  official  figure  in  front  of  the  lines,  but  in  private,  and  this 
time  on  the  outpost.  It  was  at  "  Camp  Qui-Vive,"  the  head 
quarters  of  Stuart,  beyond  Centreville,  and  in  December,  1861. 
He  came  to  dine  and  ride  out  on  the  lines  to  inspect  the  cavalry 
pickets ;  and  it  is  not  difficult  to  recall  what  manner  of  man  he 
was — so  striking  was  his  appearance.  He  wore  the  uniform  coat 
of  an  officer  of  the  United  States  Army,  dark  blue  with  gilt 
buttons  and  a  stiff  collar.  The  closely  buttoned  garment  dis 
played  his  vigorous  chest ;  from  the  upper  edge  protruded  a 
sharp,  white,  standing  collar,  and  he  wore  the  inseparable  Zouave 
cap,  with  its  straight  rim  projecting  over  the  eyes. 

The  face  of  the  soldier  speedily  drew  attention,  however,  from 
'his  dress.  The  countenance,  with  its  broad  brow,  firm  mouth, 
covered  with  a  heavy  black  moustache,  and  protruding  chin,  full 
of  courage  and  resolution,  was  that  of  a  French  Marshal  of  the 
Empire  to  the  very  life.  The  iron  nerve  of  the  man  was  indeli 
bly  stamped  upon  his  features.  It  was  impossible  to  doubt  the 
fighting  instincts  of  the  individual  with  that  muscular  contour 
of  face  which  seemed  to  defy  opposition.  The  rest  of  the  physi 
ognomy  was  gaunt,  hard,  somewhat  melancholy.  In  the  com 
plexion  was  observable  the  Southern  Creole  descent  of  the  sol 
dier  ;  it  was  brunette,  sallow,  and  the  sun  and  wind  had  made 
it  resemble  bronze.  It  had  the  dusky  pallor,  too,  of  care  and 
watching — that  bloodless  hue  which  the  pressure  of  heavy 
responsibilities  produces  in  the  human  face.  The  position  of  an 
army  leader  is  not  a  bed  of  roses,  and  the  bloom  of  youth  and 
health  soon  fades  from  the  cheeks  which  are  hollowed  by  the 
anxieties  of  command.  Such  was  the  appearance  of  the  "  Man 
of  Sumter,"  but  I  have  omitted  the  most  striking  feature  of  his 
face---the  eyes.  Large,  dark,  melancholy,  with  the  lids  droop 
ing  and  somewhat  inflamed  by  long  vigils — of  a  peculiar  dreamy 
expression — those  eyes  impressed  the  beholder  very  strangely. 
It  was  the  eye  of  the  bloodhound  with  his  fighting  instincts 
asleep,  but  ready  at  any  moment  to  be  strung  for  action.  It  was 
impossible  not  to  be  impressed  by  this  resemblance.  Not  that 
there  was  any  ferocity  or  thirst  for  blood  in  that  slumbrous 


88  WEAKING    OF  THE   GRAY. 

glance  ;  but  if  ever  "fight"  was  plain  in  any  look — obstinate, 
pertinacious,  hard  "fight" — it  was  plain  in  Beauregard's. 

II. 

The  outline  here  drawn  of  the  General's  appearance  may  pro 
duce  the  impression  that  he  was  stiff,  stern,  and  unsocial.  Such 
was  very  far  from  the  fact.  On  the  contrary,  the  manner  of  the 
individual  was  eminently  modest,  courteous,  and  pleasing.  This 
may  seem  to  clash  with  the  bloodhound  illustration — but  both 
were  true.  It  would  be  difficult  to  imagine  a  finer  air  of  grave 
politeness,  or  a  more  courtly  simplicity  than  General  Beaure 
gard's.  Of  this  the  writer  took  especial  note,  for  at  that  period 
a  great  many  very  foolish  things  were  written  and  published  in 
relation  to  the  eminent  soldier.  It  was  said  that  he  was  frigid, 
moody,  unsocial,  rude,  repulsing  all  advances  to  friendly  con 
verse  with  a  military  coolness  amounting  to  discourtes}r.  Stray 
correspondents  of  the  journals  had  drawn  a  curious  figure  and 
labelled  it  "  Beauregard  " — the  figure  of  a  sombre,  mysterious, 
and  melodramatic  personage,  prone  to  attitudinizing  and  play 
ing  the  "distinguished  warrior;"  fond  of  wrapping  his  cloak 
around  him,  folding  his  arms,  and  turning  his  back  when  any 
one  addressed  him,  as  though  absorbed  in  some  gigantic  scheme 
upon  which  his  mighty  brain  was  working,  in  a  region  far  above 
the  dull,  cold,  every-day  earth !  Such  was  the  Beauregard  of 
many  "intelligent  correspondents" — play-actor  turned  soldier; 
a  sort  of  Manfred  in  gray  uniform  ;  and  lo !  here  before  me  was 
the  real  man.  Instead  of  a  mock  hero  of  tragedy  stalking  about 
and  muttering,  the  General  appeared  to  me  to  be  a  gentleman 
of  great  courtesy  and  simplicity,  who  asked  nothing  better  than 
for  some  kind  friend  to  amuse  him  and  make  him  laugh. 

For  the  General  laughed ;  arid  when  he  did  so,  he,  strangely 
enough,  seemed  to  enjoy  himself.  Standing  on  the  portico  of 
the  old  house  in  which  Stuart  had  established  his  quarters,  or 
partaking  of  his  dinner  with  mundane  satisfaction,  he  appeared 
entirely  oblivious  that  he  was  "Beauregard  the  Great  Trage 
dian,"  and  joined  in  the  conversation  simply  and  naturally, 


BEAU  REGARD.  89 

losing  DO  opportunity  to  relax  by  laughter  the  weary  facial 
muscles  which  had  settled  into  something  like  grimness  and  me 
lancholy  from  care  and  meditation.  The  conversation  turned 
during  the  day  upon  the  first  battle  of  Manassas ;  and  when  some 
one  mentioned  the  report  in  many  Northern  journals  that  he, 
Beauregard,  had  continued  to  ride  a  horse  after  the  animal's  head 
was  carried  off  by  a  cannon-ball,  the  General's  moustache  curled 
and  he  chuckled  in  the  most  untragic  manner.  "  My  horse  was 
killed,''  he  said,  " but  his  head  was  not  carried  away.  He  was 
struck  by  a  shell,  which  exploded  at  the  moment  when  it  passed 
under  him.  A  splinter  struck  my  boot,  and  another  cut  one 
of  the  arteries  in  the  animal's  body.  The  blood  gushed  out,  and 
after  going  fifty  yards  he  fell  dead.  I  then  mounted  a  prisoner's 
horse — there  was  a  map  of  the  country  in  the  saddle  pocket— 
and  I  remember  it  was  a  small  dingy  horse  with  a  white  face." 
Laughter  followed  the  remembrance  of  the  small  dingy  horse  with 
the  white  face ;  and  when  one  of  the  company  observed  that 
"General  Beauregard  had  done  himself  considerable  credit  in 
Missouri,"  meaning  to  have  said  "  General  Price,"  the  General 
burst  into  a  laugh  which  indicated  decided  enjoyment  of  the 
mistake. 

The  incidents  here  recorded  are  not  to  be  found  in  any  of  the 
regular  histories;  and  I  doubt  if  any  description  will  be  found 
of  the  manner  in  which  General  Beauregard  essayed  to  assist  a 
young  lady  bearing  a  very  famous  name,  to  mount  her  horse. 
The  lady  in  question  was  a  very  charming  person,  an  intimate 
friend  of  General  Stuart ;  and  as  she  was  then  upon  a  visit  to 
the  neighbourhood  of  Centreville,  she  was  invited  by  tKe  gay 
cavalier  to  dine  with  Beauregard,  and  afterwards  ride  out  upon 

the  lines  under  escort.     A  young  aide  was  sent  for  Miss ; 

she  duly  arrived,  and  dined  at  the  outpost  headquarters,  and 
then  the  moment  came  to  set  out  for  the  lines.  Before  she  had 
taken  two  steps  toward  her  horse,  General  Beauregard  was  at 
her  side,  completely  distancing  the  young  Prince  Polignac,  that 
brave  and  smiling  youth,  afterwards  Brigadier-General,  but  at 
this  time  serving  upon  Beauregard's  staff.  To  see  the  grave 
commander  assist  the  fair  young  lady  to  mount  her  horse  was  a 


90  WEARING    OF   THE    GRAY. 

pleasing  sight,  and  communicated  much,  innocent  enjoyment  to 
the  spectators.  He  brought  to  the  undertaking  all  the  chivalric 
gallantry  and  politeness  of  the  French  De  Beauregards ;  stoop 
ing  down  with  an  air  of  the  deepest  respect ;  hollowing  his  hand 
to  receive  her  slipper ;  and  looking  up  to  ascertain  why  she  did 
not  take  advantage  of  his  offer.  Whether  it  was  that  the  young 
lady  thought  it  indecorous  to  make  such  use  of  that  distin 
guished  hand,  or  did  not  need  his  aid,  I  know  not ;  she  laughed, 
gracefully  vaulted  into  her  saddle,  and  mounting  his  own  steed, 
the  General  gallantly  took  his  place  at  her  side. 

These  things  are  recorded  in  place  of  the  "  important  events  " 
of  Beauregard's  career.     A  narrative  of  his  military  operations 
may  be  found  in  the  "  regular  histories,"  and  an  estimate  of  his 
merits  as  a  commander.     Upon  this  latter  point  a  diversity  of 
opinion  exists,  owing  to  the  tragic  termination  of  the  recent  con-* 
flict.     The  secret  archives  of  the  Confederate  government  were 
destroyed,  or  remain  unpublished.     Many  questions  thus  remain 
unanswered.    Was  Beauregard  fully  aware  of  the  enemy's  move 
ment  against  his  left  at  Manassas,  and  did  he  disregard  it,  depend 
ing  on  his  great  assault  at  Centreville  ?     Did  he,  or  did  he  not, 
counsel   an   advance  upon   Washington    after   the    battle — an 
advance  which  events  now  known  show  to  have  been  perfectly 
practicable?     Were  his  movements  on  Corinth,  in  the  West, 
judicious?     Were  his  operations  at  Petersburg  in  accordance 
with  the  views  of  the  government?     All  these  questions  remain 
unanswered ;  for  the  dispatches  containing  the  solution  of  the 
whole  were  destroyed  or  are  inaccessible  to  the  world.    One  fact 
is  unfortunately   very  well  known — that  there  was  "  no  love 
lost"  between  the  celebrated  soldier  and  the  Confederate  Execu 
tive  ;  and  by  a  portion  of  the  Southern  press  little  praise  was 
accorded  him.     But  he  did  not  need  it.     The  victor  of  Manassas 
and  Shiloh,  the  man  who  clung  to  Sumter  until  it  was  a  mass 
of  blackened  ruins,  will  be  remembered  when  partisan  rancour 
and  injustice  are  forgotten.     Fame  knows  her  children,  and  her 
bugle  sounds  across  the  years. 

A  notable  trait  in  the  personal  character  of  Beauregard  was 
his  kindly  bmihomie  to  the  private  soldier.     In  this  he  resembled 


BEAUKEGARD.  91 

the  officers  of  Xapoleon,  not  those  of  the  English  Army.  He 
had  the  French  habit  of  mingling  with  the  men  when  not  upon 
duty,  sharing  their  pursuits,  conversing  with  them,  and  lighting 
his  cigar  at  their  camp  fires.  From  this  sprang  much  of  his  per 
sonal  popularity,  and  he  thus  excited  largely  that  sympathy 
which  rendered  him  so  acceptable  to  his  troops.  To  a  General, 
nothing  is  more  important  than  this  sympathy.  It  is  a  weapon 
with  which  the  master  soldier  strikes  his  hardest  blows,  and 
often  springs  from  apparent  trifles.  Napoleon  became  the  idol 
of  his  troops  as  much  by  his  personal  bearing  toward  them  as 
from  his  victories.  He  was  the  grand  Napoleon — but  he  stopped 
to  talk  with  the  men  by  their  fires :  he  called  them  "mes  enfans:" 
he  fixed  his  dark  eyes  with  magnetic  sympathy  upon  the  dying 
soldier  who  summoned  his  last  remains  of  strength  to  half  rise 
from  the  earth,  extend  his  arms,  and  cry,  "Vive  VEmpei*eur ! " 
He  took  this  personal  interest  in  them — the  interest  of  a  com 
rade — and  no  one  else  could  rival  him  in  their  favour. 

Beauregard  had  certainly  secured  this  personal  popularity. 
He  invariably  exhibited  the  utmost  kindness,  compatible  with 
discipline,  toward  his  men,  and  they  remained  true  to  him — as 
the  Federal  troops  did  to  McClellan — through  all  his  reverses, 
giving  him  in  return  for  his  sympathy  and  familiarity  an  im 
mense  amount  of  good  feeling  and  regard.  A  trifling  incident 
will  illustrate  this.  A  private  soldier  of  the  "  Powhatan  troop  " 
— a  company  of  cavalry  which  served  as  the  General's  body 
guard — one  day  entered  Beauregard's  apartment,  and  wishing 
to  write  a  letter,  seated  himself,  as  he  supposed,  at  the  desk  of 
one  of  the  clerks  for  that  purpose.  Taking  a  sheet  of  paper  and 
a  pen  which  lay  near,  he  commenced  his  letter,  and  was  soon 
absorbed  in  it.  While  thus  engaged,  he  heard  a  step  behind 
him,  turned  his  head,  and  saw  General  Beauregard  enter,  where 
upon  he  suddenly  rose  in  confusion — for  all  at  once  the  truth 
flashed  upon  him  that  he  was  writing  at  the  Generals  desk,  on  the 
General's  paper,  and  with  the  General's  pen  !  Fearing  a  harsh 
rebuke  for  this  act  of  military  lese-majeste,  the  trooper  stammered 
out  an  apology;  but  no  storm  came  from  the  General.  "Sit 
down  and  finish  your  letter  my  friend,1'  he  said,  with  a  good- 


92  WEARING     OF   THE    GRAY. 

humoured  smile;  "you  are  very  welcome,  andean  always  come 
in  here  when  you  wish  to  write."  It  was  trifles  like  this  which 
made  the  announcement  of  his  removal  from  the  command  of  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac  run  like  an  electric  shock  through  the 
camps,  which  caused  a  great  concourse  of  soldiers  to  follow  him 
through  Centreville  and  far  upon  his  road,  shouting  "Good-by, 
General !  " — "  God  bless  you,  General !  " 

T.o  suppose  that  this  brother-feeling  of  the  soldier  for  his  troops 
ever  led  him  to  relax  in  discipline,  would  be  a  great  mistake. 
In  official  matters,  and  wherever  "duty"  was  concerned,  he  was 
rigid  and  immovable,  exacted  from  every  man  under  him  the 
strictest  obedience,  and  was  wholly  inaccessible  to  any  prayer 
which  came  in  conflict  with  the  good  of  the  public  service. 
When  at  Centreville,  in  the  fall  of  1861,  he  expected  daily  an 
advance  of  McClellan.  One  morning  a  cannoneer  from  one  of 
the  batteries  came  in  person  to  ask  for  a  leave  of  absence  of  ten 
days  to  see  his  dying  mother.  "  I  cannot  grant  any  leave,"  was 
the  reply.  "Only  for  ten  days,  General,"  pleaded  the  soldier. 
"Not  for  ten  hours!"  replied  Beauregard ;  and  the  interview 
terminated.  Had  the  moment  not  been  critical  he  would  have 
given  this  private  soldier  the  desired  leave  with  the  utmost 
readiness — as  he  would  have  commended  and  promoted  him,  for 
the  display  of  skill  or  gallantry. 

That  all-important  point  of  rewarding  merit  in  the  private 
soldier  was  never  neglected  by  Beauregard.  An  instance  was 
the  promotion  of  a  young  man  in  the  Loudoun  cavalry,  whose 
conspicuous  courage  and  efficiency  in  reconnoitring  and  car 
rying  orders  at  Manassas  attracted  his  attention.  At  the  close 
of  the  day  the  obscure  private  was  summoned  to  headquarters 
and  informed  by  Beauregard  that  he  would  henceforth  rank  as 
a  captain  of  his  staff.  This  gentleman  was  afterwards  Colonel 
Henry  E.  Peyton,  Inspector-General  of  the  Army  of  Northern 
Virginia,  one  of  the  bravest  and  most  accomplished  officers  in 
the  service. 

A  last  incident  relating  to  "Beauregard  the  Great  Trage 
dian,"  who  was  supposed  to  be  playing  u  Lara,"  "  Manfred,"  or 
some  other  sombre  and  mysterious  character  at  Manassas,  in 


BEAU  REGARD.  03 

those  far  away  times.  It  may  add  an  additional  touch  to  the 
outline  I  have  aimed  to  draw.  It  was  in  the  summer  of  1861 
that  some  young  ladies  of  Prince  William  prepared  a  hand 
some  nosegay  for  presentation  to  the  General ;  and  as  he  had 
amongst  his  clerks  a  gentleman  of  high  culture,  the  nosegay 
was  entrusted  to  him  for  delivery.  He  consented  with  reluc 
tance.  To  present  a  bunch  of  flowers  to  the  silent  and  abstracted 
commander,  whose  faculties  were  burdened  by  great  cares 
and  responsibilities,  seemed  an  incongruity  which  strangely 
impressed  the  ambassador ;  but  there  was  the  nosegay,  there 
were  the  young  ladies,  there  was  his  promise,  and  he  nerved 
himself  for  the  task.  Waiting  until  all  intruders  had  left  the 
General's  presence,  he  timidly  knocked  at  the  door  of  his 
sanctum,  was  bidden  in  a  grave  voice  to  enter,  and  advanc 
ing  into  the  apartment,  found  opposite  to  him  the  imposing 
eye  and  "  brow  severe  "  of  General  Beauregard,  who  had  never 
looked  more  stern.  The  spectacle  very  nearly  disarmed  the 
ambassador  of  his  presence  of  mind ;  but  he  determined  to 
accomplish  his  errand  in  the  best  manner  possible,  and  accord 
ingly  proceeded  to  address  the  solemn  General  in  what  the 
newspapers  call  a  "  neat  little  speech."  Having  finished,  he 
presented  the  flowers,  drew  back  respectfully,  and  nerved  him 
self  for  the  result.  That  result  surprisingly  differed  from  his 
expectations.  Beauregard  cleared  his  throat,  looked  extremely 
confused,  and  stammering  "Thank  you!  I  am  very  much 
obliged  !  "  received  the  bouquet,  blushing  as  he  did  so  like  a 
girl.  Such  was  the  tragedy-hero  of  those  journalists  of  1861. 

IH. 

I  have  tried  to  draw  an  outline  of  the  actual  man,  not  to  make 
a  figure  of  the  fancy  ;  to  present  an  accurate  likeness  of  General 
Beauregard  as  he  appeared  to  us  of  Virginia  in  those  first 
months  of  the  war,  not  to  drape  the  individual  in  historic  robes, 
making  him  an  actor  or  a  myth. 

He  was  neither ;  he  was  simply  a  great  soldier,  and  a  finished 
gentleman.  Once  in  his  presence,  you  would  not  be  apt  to  deny 


94  WE  A  KING    OF   THE    GRAY. 

his  claim  to  both  of  these  characters.  The  nervous  figure ;  the 
gaunt,  French,  fighting,  brunette  countenance,  deeply  bronzed 
by  sun  and  wind — these  were  the  marks  of  the  soldier.  The 
grave,  high-bred  politeness;  the  ready,  courteous  smile;  the 
kindly  and  simple  bearing,  wholly  free  from  affectation  and  as 
sumption — these  were  the  characteristics  of  the  gentilhomme  by 
birth  and  habit,  by  nature  as  by  breeding. 

Ten  minutes'  conversation  with  the  man  convinced  you  that 
you  stood  in  the  presence  of  one  of  those  men  who  mould 
events.  The  very  flash  of  the  dark  eyes  "  dared  you  to  forget." 

Nor  will  the  South  forget  this  brave  and  trusty  soldier.  His 
name  is  cut  upon  the  marble  of  history  in  letters  too  deep  to  be 
effaced  by  the  hand  of  Time,  that  terrible  disintegrator.  As 
long  as  the  words  "  Manassas  "  and  "  Shiloh  "  strike  a  chord  in 
the  bosoms  of  men,  the  name  "  Beauregard  "  will  also  stir  the* 
pulses.  Those  mighty  conflicts  meet  us  in  the  early  epoch  of 
the  war,  grim,  bloody,  and  possessing  a  tragedy  of  their  own. 
The  soldier  who  fought  those  battles  confronts  us,  too,  with  an 
individuality  of  mind  and  body  which  cannot  be  mistaken. 
Lee  is  the  Virginian,  Hood  the  Texan ;  Beauregard  is  the  mar 
shal  of  Napoleon — or  at  least  he  looked  thus  in  those  early  days 
when  the  soldiers  of  Virginia,  gathering  at  Manassas,  closely 
scanned  the  form  and  features  of  their  new  commander. 

From  Virginia  the  great  captain  went  to  the  West,  where,  as 
the  world  knows,  he  won  new  laurels ;  and  to  the  end  he  con 
tinued  to  justify  his  title  of  "The  Fortunate."  That  is  only, 
however,  another  name  for  The  Able,  The  Skilful,  The  Master 
of  events — not  by  "luck,"  but  by  brains.  Good-fortune  is  an 
angel  who  flies  from  the  weak  and  fearful,  but  yields  herself 
captive  to  the  resolute  soul  who  clutches  her.  If  any  doubted 
that  Beauregard  owed  his  great  success  to  the  deepest  thought, 
the  most  exhausting  brain-work,  and  those  sleepless  vigils  which 
wear  out  the  life,  they  had  only  to  look  upon  him  in  his  latter 
vears  to  discover  the  truth.  Care,  meditation,  watching — all 
the  huge  responsibility  of  an  army  leader — had  stamped  on  the 
brow  of  the  great  Creole  their  unmistakable  impress.  The  heavy 
moustache,  which  had  once  been  as  black  as  the  raven's  wing, 


BEAUREGARD.  95 

was  now  grizzled  like  the  beard.  In  the  hair,  which  before  was 
dark,  now  shone  those  silver  threads  which  toil  and  anxiety 
weave  mercilessly  in  the  locks  of  their  victims.  The  mouth 
smiled  still,  but  the  muscles  had  assumed  a  grimmer  tension. 
The  eyes  were  still  brilliant,  but  more  deeply  sunken  and  more 
slumbrous.  In  the  broad  brow,  once  so  smooth,  the  iron  hand 
of  care  had  ploughed  the  inexorable  furrows. 

Beauregard  the  youthful,  daring,  and  impetuous  soldier,  had 
become  Beauregard  the  cautious,  thoughtful,  self-sacrificing 
patriot — one  of  the  great  props  of  the  mighty  edifice  then  totter 
ing  beneath  the  heavy  blows  it  was  receiving  in  Virginia  and 
the  West. 

"  The  self-sacrificing  patriot.'1  If  any  one  doubts  his  claim  to 
that  title,  it  will  not  be  doubted  when  events  now  buried  in 
obscurity  are  known.  Beauregard  was  superb  when,  in  the  midst 
of  the  dense  smoke  of  Manassas,  he  shouted  in  his  inspiring 
voice,  "I  salute  the  Eighth  Georgia  with  my  hat  off!  History 
shall  never  forget  you!  "  But  he  was  greater  still — more  noble 
and  more  glorious — when  after  the  battle  of  Corinth  he  said 
nothing. 

He  was  silent,  and  is  silent  still ;  but  history  speaks  for  him, 
and  will  ever  speak.  He  lives  in  the  memories  and  the  hearts 
of  his  old  soldiers,  as  in  the  pages  of  our  annals ;  and  those  who 
followed  his  flag,  who  listened  to  his  voice,  need  no  page  like 
this  to  bring  his  figure  back,  as  it  blazed  before  their  eyes  in  the 
far  away  year  '61.  They  remember  him  always,  and  salute  him 
from  their  hearts — as  does  the  writer  of  these  lines. 

Wherever  you  may  be,  General — whether  in  Rome  or  New 
Orleans,  in  the  Old  World  or  the  New — whether  in  sickness  or 
in  health,  in  joy  or  in  sorrow — your  old  soldiers  of  the  Army 
of  Virginia  remember  you,  and  wish  you  long  life,  health,  and 
happiness,  from  their  heart  of  hearts. 


VI. 
EARLY. 


i. 

IN  the  Virginia  Convention  of  1860-61,  when  the  great  strug 
gle  for  separation  took  place,  and  the  hot  war  of  tongues  pre 
ceded  the  desperate  war  of  the  bayonet,  there  was  a  gentleman, 
of  resolute  courage  and  military  experience  who  made  himself 
prominent  among  the  opponents  of  secession.  Belonging  to  the 
old  Whig  party,  and  thinking  apparently  that  the  right  moment 
had  not  yet  come,  this  resolute  soldier-politician  fought  the  advo 
cates  of  the  ordinance  with  unyielding  persistence,  aiming  by  his 
hard-hitting  argument,  his  kindling  eloquence,  and  his  parlia 
mentary  skill,  to  give  to  the  action  of  the  Convention  that 
direction  which  his  judgment  approved.  Many  called  him  a 
"  submissionist,"  because  he  opposed  secession  then ;  but  when 
the  gauntlet  was  thrown  down,  this  "Whig  submissionist"  put 
on  a  gray  coat,  took  the  field,  and  fought  from  the  beginning  to 
the  very  end  of  the  war  with  a  courage  and  persistence  surpassed 
by  no  Southerner  who  took  part  in  the  conflict.  When  he  was 
sent  to  invade  Maryland,  and  afterwards  was  left  by  General 
Lee  in  command  of  that  "  forlorn  hope,"  the  little  Yalley  army, 
if  it  could  be  called  such,  in  the  winter  of  1864-5,  he  was 
selected  for  the  work,  because  it  required  the  brain  and  courage 
of  the  soldier  of  hard  and  stubborn  fibre.  Only  since  the  ter 
mination  of  the  war  has  the  world  discovered  the  truth  of  that 
great  campaign  ;  the  desperate  character  of  the  situation  which 
Early  occupied,  and  the  enormous  odds  against  which  he 
fought. 


EARLY.  97 

He  entered  upon  the  great  arena  almost  unknown.  He  had 
served  in  the  Mexican  war,  and  had  there  displayed  skill  and 
courage  ;  but  his  position  was  a  subordinate  one,  and  he  was 
better  known  as  a  politician  than  a  soldier.  In  the  field  he 
made  his  mark  at  once.  About  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of 
the  21st  of  July,  1861,  at  Manassas,  the  Federal  forces  had  been 
driven  by  the  resolute  assault  of  Jackson  and  his  great  asso 
ciates  from  the  Henry-House  hill ;  but  a  new  and  formidable 
line-of-battle  was  formed  on  the  high  ground  beyond,  near 
Dogan's  house,  and  the  swarming  masses  of  Federal  infantry 
were  thrown  forward  for  a  last  desperate  charge.  The  object  of 
the  Federal  commander  was  to  outflank  and  envelop  the  Confe 
derate  left,  and  his  'right  wing  swayed  forward  to  accomplish 
that  object,  when  all  at  once  from  the  woods,  which  the  enemy 
were  aiming  to  gain,  came  a  galling  fire  which  staggered  and 
drove  them  back.  This  fire  was  delivered  by  Kirby  Smith  and 
Early.  So  hot  was  it  that  it  completely  checked  the  Federal 
charge ;  and  as  they  wavered,  the  Southern  lines  pressed  for 
ward  with  wild  cheers.  The  enemy  were  forced  to  give  ground. 
Their  ranks  broke,  and  in  thirty  minutes  the  grand  army  was  in 
full  retreat  across  Bull  Run.  The  "  Whig  Submissionist "  had 
won  his  spurs  in  the  first  great  battle  of  the  war.  From  that  time 
Early  was  in  active  service,  and  did  hard  work  everywhere — in 
the  Peninsula,  where  he  was  severely  wounded  in  the  hard  strug 
gle  of  Malvern  Hill,  and  then  as  General  Early,  at  Cedar  Moun 
tain,  where  he  met  and  repulsed  a  vigorous  advance  of  General 
Pope's  left  wing,  in  the  very  inception  of  the  battle.  If  Early  had 
given  way  there,  E well's  column  on  the  high  ground  to  his  right 
would  have  been  cut  off  from  the  main  body ;  but  the  ground 
was  obstinately  held,  and  victory  followed.  Advancing  north 
ward  thereafter,  Jackson  threw  two  brigades  across  at  Warren- 
ton  Springs,  under  Early,  and  these  resolutely  held  their  ground 
in  face  of  an  overpowering  force.  Thenceforward  Early  con 
tinued  to  add  to  his  reputation  as  a  hard  fighter — at  Bristoe,  the 
second  Manassas,  Harper's  Ferry,  Sharpsburg,  Fredericksburg, 
Gettysburg,  Spottsylvania,  Monocacy,  and  throughout  the  Val 
ley  campaign.  During  the  invasion  of  Pennsylvania  he  led 

7 


98  WEARING    OF  THE    GRAY. 

General  Lee's  advance,  which  reached  the  Susquehanna  and  cap 
tured  York,  In  Spottsylvaiiia  he  commanded  Hill's  corps,  and 
was  in  the  desperate"  righting  at  the  time  of  the  assault  upon  the 
famous  "  Horseshoe,"  and  repulsed  an  attack  of  Burnside's  corps 
with  heavy  loss  to  his  opponents.  After  that  hard  and  bitter 
struggle  the  Federal  commander  gave  up  all  hope  of  forcing 
General  Lee's  lines,  and  moving  by  the  left  flank  reached  Cold 
Harbour,  where  the  obstinate  struggle  recommenced.  It  was 
at  this  moment,  when  almost  overpowered  by  the  great  force 
arrayed  against  him,  that  General  Lee  received  intelligence  of 
the  advance  of  General  Hunter  up  the  Valley  with  a  considerable 
army  ;  and  it  was  necessary  to  detach  a  commander  of  ability, 
vigour,  and  daring  to  meet  that  column.  fc  Early  was  selected, 
and  the  result  is  known.  General  Hunter  advanced,  in  spite 
of  opposition  from  the  cavalry  under  General  Jones,  until  be 
reached  the  vicinity  of  Lynchburg ;  but  here  he  came  in  colli 
sion  with  his  dangerous  adversary.  A  complete  defeat  of  the 
Federal  forces  followed,  and  Hunter's  campaign  was  decided  at 
one  blow.  He  gave  ground,  retreated,  and,  with  constantly 
accelerated  speed,  sought  refuge  in  the  western  mountains, 
whence,  with  a  decimated  and  disheartened  army,  he  hastened 
towards  the  Ohio.  The  great  advance  up  the  Valley,  from 
which,  as  his  report  shows,  General  Grant  had  expected  so 
much,  had  thus^  completely  failed.  The  campaign  beginning 
with  such  high  hopes,  had  terminated  in  ignominy  and  disaster. 
The  inhabitants  of  the  region,  subjected  by  General  Hunter  to 
the  most  merciless  treatment,  saw  their  powerful  oppressor  in 
hopeless  retreat ;  and  an  advance  which  threatened  to  paralyse 
Lee,  and  by  severing  his  communications,  drive  him  from  Vir 
ginia,  had  been  completely  defeated.  Such  was  the  first  evi 
dence  given  by  General  Early  of  his  ability  as  a  corps  com 
mander,  operating  without  an  immediate  superior. 

He  was  destined  to  figure  now,  however,  in  scenes  more  strik 
ing  and  "  dramatic "  still.  General  Grant,  with  about  150,000 
men,  was  pressing  General  Lee  with  about  50,000,  and  forcing 
him  slowly  back  upon  the 'Confederate  capital.  Every  resource 
of  the  Confederacv  was  strained  to  meet  this  terrible  assault — 


EARLY.  99 

the  sinews  almost  broken  in  the  effort.  To  divert  reinforce 
ments  from  General  Grant  was  a  matter  of  vital  importance — a 
thing  of  life  and  death — and  Jackson's  Valley  campaign  in  1862 
had  shown  how  this  could  be  most  effectually  clone.  To  menace 
the  Federal  capital  was  evidently  the  great  secret:  a  moderate 
force  would  not  probably  be  able  to  do  more  than  divert  troops 
from  Grant ;  but  this  was  an  object  of  the  first  importance,  and 
much  might  be  accomplished  by  a  soldier  of  decision,  energy, 
and  rapidity  of  movement.  Early  had  been  selected  for  the 
work,  with  orders  when  he  left  the  lowland  to  "  move  to  the 
Valley  through  Swift  Eun  Gap  or  Brown's  Gap,  attack  Hunter, 
and  then  cross  the  Potomac  and  threaten  Washington."  This 
critical  task  he  now  undertook  with  alacrity,  and  he  accom 
plished  it  with  very  great  skill  and  success. 

Not  a  moment  was  lost  in  pushing  his  column  toward 
Maryland  ;  and  such  was  the  rapidity  of  the  march  upon 
Washington,  that  the  capital  was  placed  in  imminent  danger. 
In  spite  of  the  prostrating  heat,  the  troops  made  twenty 
miles  a  day,  and  the  rumour  of  this  determined  advance 
came  to  the  Federal  authorities  at  the  moment  when  Grant  was 
supposed  to  be  carrying  everything  before  him.  To  meet  the 
attack  of  their  formidable  adversary,  the  authorities  at  Washing 
ton  sent  to  hurry  forward  the  forces  of  General  Hunter  from  the 
Ohio,  and  a  considerable  force  from  General  Grant's  army  was 
dispatched  up  the  bay  to  man  the  fortifications.  Early  had 
pressed  on,  crossed  the  Potomac,  advanced  to  Frederick  City, 
defeated  General  Wallace  at  the  Monocacy,  and  was  now  in*  sight 
of  the  defences  of  Washington  ;  the  crack  of  his  skirmishers  was 
heard  at  the  "White  House"  and  in  the  department  buildings 
of  the  capital.  The  enormous  march,  however,  had  broken 
down  and  decimated  his  army.  The  five  hundred  miles  of 
incessant  advance,  at  twenty  miles  a  day,  left  him  only  eight 
thousand  infantry,  about  forty  field-pieces,  and  two  thousand 
badly  mounted  cavalry — at  the  moment  detached  against  the 
railroads  northward — with  which  to  assault  the  powerful  works, 
bristling  with  cannon,  in  his  front.  His  position  at  this  moment 
was  certainly  critical,  and  calculated  to  try  the  nerves  of  any  but 


100  WEARING    OF  THE    GRAY. 

a  resolute  and  daring  soldier.  He  was  in  the  heart  of  the 
enemy's  country,  or  at  least  in  sight  of  their  capital  city  ;  in  his 
front,  according  to  Mr.  Stanton,  the  Federal  Secretary  of  War, 
was  the  Sixth  and  part  of  the  Eighth  and  Nineteenth  Corps,  and 
General  Hunter  was  hastening  from  the  West  to  strike  his  rear 
and  cut  him  off  from  his  only  avenue  of  retreat  across  the 
Potomac.  'It  behoved  the  Confederate  commander  under  these 
circumstances  to  look  to  his  safety ;  and  he  was  reluctantly  com 
pelled  to  give  up  his  intended  assault  upon  the  capital — to 
abandon  the  attempt  to  seize  the  rich  prize  apparently  in  his 
very  grasp.  Early,  accordingly,  broke  up  his  camp,  retreated, 
and,  with  little  molestation,  recrossed  the  Potomac,  and  stood  at 
bay  on  the  Opequon  in  the  Shenandoah  Valley. 

Such  had  been  the  result  of  the  daring  advance  upon  the 
Federal  capital.  The  extent  of  the  danger  to  which  Washington 
was  then  exposed,  still  remains  a  matter  of  doubt  and  difference 
of  opinion  among  the  most  intelligent  persons.  It  will,  no 
doubt,  be  accurately  defined  when  the  events  of  the  recent  strug 
gle  come  to  be  closely  investigated  by  the  impartial  historian  of 
the  future,  and  the  truth  is  sifted  from  the  error.  To  the  world 
at  large,  the  Federal  capital  seemed  in  no  little  danger  on  that 
July  morning,  when  Early's  lines  were  seen  advancing  to  the 
attack.  Northern  writers  state  that,  if  the  assault  had  been 
made  on  the  day  before,  it  would  have  resulted  in  the  capture 
of  the  city.  But  however  well  or  ill-founded  this  may  be,  it  is 
safe  to  say  that  the  primary  object  of  the  march  had  been 
accomplished  when  Early  retreated  and  posted  himself  in  the 
Shenandoah  Valley — a  standing  threat  to  repeat  his  audacious 
enterprise.  It  was  no  longer  a  mere  detached  column  that 
opposed  him,  but  an  army  of  about  50,000  men.  To  that  extent 
General  Grant  had  been  weakened,  and  the  heavy  weight  upon 
General  Lee's  shoulders  lightened. 

II. 

These  events  took  place  in  the  summer  of  1864,  and  in  the 
autumn  of  that  year  General  Early  fought  his  famous  battles, 


EARLY.  101 

and — the  world  said — sustained  his  ignominious  xfefetftsHn  the 
Shenandoah  Valley.  "Ignominious"  was  the  adjective*  whioh 
expressed  the  views  of  nine-tenths  of  the  citteens-Viiteide  of  Ijrfe 
immediate  region,  and  probably  of  one-half  the  army  of  North 
ern  Virginia.  In  the  eyes  of  the  world  there  is  a  crime  for 
which  there  is  no  palliation,  and  that  is  failure.  There  is  a 
criminal  to  whom  all  defence  is  denied — it  is  the  man  who  fails. 
No  matter  what  the  failure  results  from,  there  it  is,  and  no 
explanations  are  "  in  order."  Early  was  defeated  in  a  pitched 
battle  near  Winchester,  on  the  19th  of  September,  and  the 
country,  gloomy,  despondent,  embittered,  and  clamouring  for 
a  victory,  broke  out  into  curses  almost  at  the  man  who  had  sus 
tained  this  reverse.  It  was  his  bad  generalship,  they  cried  ; 
"  the  troops  had  no  confidence  in  him ; "  he  was  the  poorest  of 
soldiers,  the  veriest  sham  general — else  why,  with  his  splendid 
army,  did  he  allow  a  second  or  third-rate  general  like  Sheridan 
to  defeat  him  ?  When  the  defeat  at  Fisher's  Hill  followed,  and 
i\\Q  fiasco  at  Waynesboro'  terminated  the  Valley  campaign,  peo 
ple  were  convinced  that  General  Jubal  A.  Early  was  a  very 
great  dunce  in  military  matters,  had  been  outgeneralled  and 
outfought  by  an  opponent  little,  if  any,  stronger  than  himself, 
and  the  whole  campaign  was  stigmatized  as  a  disgraceful  series 
of  blunders,  ending  in  well-merited  defeat  and  disaster. 

That  was  the  popular  clamour  ;  but  it  is  safe  to  say  that  popu 
lar  clamour  is  essentially  falsehood,  because  it  is  based  upon 
passion  and  ignorance.  The  truth  of  that  campaign  is  that 
Early  was  "leading  a  forlorn  hope,"  and  that  he  never  fought 
less  than  four  to  one.  At  Fisher's  Hill  and  Waynesboro',  he 
fought  about  eight  to  one.  It  is  not  upon  General  Early's 
statements  in  his  recent  letter  from  Havana,  that  the  present 
writer  makes  the  above  allegation,  but  upon  the  testimony  of 
officers  and  citizens  of  the  highest  character  who  are  unani 
mous  in  their  statement  to  the  above  effect.  From  the  date 
of  the  battle  of  Winchester,  or  the  Opequon,  to  the  present 
time,  it  has  been  persistently  declared  by  the  fairest  and  best 
informed  gentlemen  of  the  surrounding  region,  who  had  excel 
lent  opportunities  to  discover  the  truth,  that  Early's  force  in 


102  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

that  fight/Xnis  about  eiglit  or  ten  thousand,  and  Sheridan's 
a_bout  t  fqrty  or  fifty  thousand.  General  Early  states  upon  his 
.hoti.oure-^and  the. world  is  apt  to  believe  him — that  his  effective 
strength  in  this  action  was  eight  thousand  five  hundred  mus 
kets,  three  battalions  of  artillery,  and  less  than  three  thousand 
cavalry.  General  Sheridan's  force  he  makes,  upon  a  close 
calculation,  about  thirty -five  thousand  muskets,  one  of  his 
corps  alone  numbering,  as  captured  documents  showed,  twelve 
thousand  men — more  than  the  whole  Southern  force,  infantry, 
cavalry,  and  artillery.  In  the  number  of  guns  Sheridan,  he 
says,  was,  "  vastly  superior  "  to  him  ;  and  official  reports  cap 
tured  showed  the  Federal  cavalry  "present  for  duty  "  two  days 
before  the  battle,  to  have  numbered  ten  thousand  men.*  There 

*  An  interesting  discussion  has  taken  place  in  the  journals  of  the  day,  in  refer 
ence  to  the  forces  of  Early  and  Sheridan  at  the  battle  of  the  Opequon.  The  latter 
replied  to  Early's  statement  by  charging  him  with  falsifying  history;  and  this 
reply  drew  forth  in  turn  statements  from  Southern  officers — some  sentences  from 
which  are  quoted: 

"  I  know  of  my  own  personal  knowledge,"  wrote  an  officer  in  the  New  Orleans 
Picayune,  January  13,  1866,  "that  General  Early's  statement  is  correct,  when  he 
states  that  he  had  about  eiglit  thousand  five  hundred  muskets  in  the  second 
engagement  with  General  Sheridan.  I  was  a  staff  officer  for  four  years  in  the 
army  of  Northern  Virginia.  1  was  a  division  staff  officer,  Second  Army  Corps, 
under  General  Early's  command,  from  the  time  the  Second  Corps  was  detached 
from  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  June  1864,  to  the  time  it  was  ordered  to 
Petersburg,  December,  1864.  I  was  present  at  the  battles  of  Winchester,  Fisher's 
Hill,  and  Cedar  Creek.  I  know  from  the  official  reports  that  I  myself  made,  and 
from  actual  observation  at  reviews,  drills,  inspections  in  camp,  and  on  the  march, 
the  effective  strength  of  every  brigade  and  division  of  infantry  under  General 
Early's  command  (of  the  cavalry  and  artillery  I  cannot  speak  so  authoritatively), 
and  I  can  therefore  assert  that  in  neither  one  of  these  actions  above  mentioned, 
did  General  Early  carry  nine  thousand  men  (infantry)  into  the  fight." 

"  One  who  served  on  Early'1  s  staff"  writes  in  the  New  York  News  of  February 
10,  1866: 

"  The  writer  of  this  has  in  his  possession  the  highest  and  most  conclusive  evi 
dence  of  the  truth  of  Early's  statement  of  his  infantry  force ;  and  in  fact  without 
this  proof,  it  could  have  been  substantially  established  by  the  evidence  here  in 
Lynchburg  of  these  facts,  that  fifteen  trains  of  the  Virginia  and  Alexandria  Rail 
road  (no  one  train  of  a  capacity  of  carrying  five  hundred  men)  brought  the  whole 
of  the  Second  Corps  of  the  Confederate  Army  under  division  commanders  Gor 
don,  Rodes,  and  Ramseur  to  this  place :  that  Breckenridge's  division,  then  here, 
was  only  about  two  thousand  men :  and  that  these  were  all  of  the  infantry  car- 


EARLY.  10$ 

was  thus  a  terrible  disproportion  between  the  Federal  and 
Confederate  forces.  Greatly  outnumbered  in  artillery  ;  with 
thirty-five  thousand  muskets  opposed  to  his  eight  thousand  five 

ried  from  this  place  by  Early  down  the  Valley  after  his  chase  of  Hunter.  It  will 
thus  be  perceived  that  Early's  estimate  (eight  thousand  five  hundred)  was  quite 
full  so  far ;  and  after  the  Winchester  and  Fisher's  Hill  engagements,  his  state 
ment  that  Kershaw's  division  of  two  thousand  seven  hundred  then  added,  did 
not  exceed  his  previous  losses,  ought  certainly  not  to  be  objected  to  by  Sheridan, 
who  assails  Early's  veracity  with  the  assertion  that  he  inflicted  on  him  a  loss  of 
twenty-six  thousand  eight  hundred  and  thirty-one  men  1 " 

The  Richmond  Times  says :  "  Of  General  Early's  actual  force  on  the  19th  of  Sep 
tember,  1864,  the  day  of  the  battle  of  Winchester,  his  first  defeat,  we  can  give 
statistics  nearly  official,  procured  from  an  officer  of  rank  who  held  a  high  com 
mand  during  the  campaign,  and  who  had  every  opportunity  of  knowing.  Early'a 
infantry  consisted  of 

Gordon's  Division 2,000 

Ramseur's  Division 2,000 

Rodes'  Division 2,500 

Breckenridge's  Division » 1,800 

Total  Infantry 8,300 

CAVALRY — FITZ  LEE'S  DIVISION. 

Wickham's  Brigade 1,000 

Lomax's  old  Brigade 600 

LOMAX'S  DIVISION. 

McCauseland's  Brigade 800 

Johnson's  Brigade 700 

Imboden's  Brigade 400 

Jackson's  Brigade .300 

Total  Cavalry 3,800 

«.  ARTILLERY. 

Three  Battalions  Light  Artillery 40  guns. 

One  Battalion  Horse  Artillery 12  guns. 

Total  guns 52  guns 

About  one  thousand  artillerists. 

"This  recapitulation  embraces  all  the  forces  of  Early's  command.  General 
Sheridan,  according  to  official  statements,  had  under  his  command  over  thirty-five 
thousand  muskets,  eight  thousand  sabres,  and  a  proportionate  quantity  of  artil 
lery."  t 

The  force  of  Sheridan  is  not  a  matter  of  dispute:  that  of  Early  is  defined  with 
sufficient  accuracy  by  the  above  statements  from  honourable  officers. 


10-4  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

hundred ;  and  ten  thousand  excellently  mounted  and  armed 
cavalry  to  his  three  thousand  miserably  mounted  and  equipped 
horsemen ;  Early  occupied  anything  but  a  bed  of  roses  in 
those  days  of  September,  when  his  little  force  so  defiantly 
faced  the  powerful  army  opposed  to  it. 

Why  he  was  not  attacked  and  driven  up  the  Valley  long 
before  the  19th  of  September,  will  remain  an  interesting  histo 
rical  problem.  Nothing  but  the  unceasing  activity  and  auda 
city  of  the  Confederate  commander  appears  to  have  retarded 
this  consummation.  General  Hunter  seems  to  have  been  para 
lysed,  or  intimidated  by  the  incessant  movements  of  his  wary 
opponent.  From  the  period  of  his  return  to  the  Yalley  from 
Washington,  Early  had  given  his  adversary  no  breathing 
spell.  To-day  he  seemed  retreating  up  the  Yalley  ;  on  the 
next  day  he  was  in  Maryland  ;  when  he  fell  back  and  his* 
adversary  followed,  a  sudden  and  decisive  blow  at  the  head 
of  the  pursuing  column  threw  the  whole  Federal  programme 
into  confusion ;  and  grim  and  defiant,  Early  faced  General 
Hunter  in  line  of  battle,  defying  him  to  make  an  attack. 

It  will  be  hard  to  establish  the  statement  that  in  these  move 
ments,  during  the  summer  and  autumn  of  1864,  in  the  Shenan- 
doah  Yalley,  Early  did  not  carry  out  in  the  fullest  degree  the 
instructions  received  from  General  Lee,  and  accomplish  admi 
rably  the  objects  for  which  he  had  been. sent  to  that  region. 
He  was  placed  there  as  Jackson  had  been  in  1862,  to  divert  a 
portion  of  the  Federal  forces  from  the  great  arena  of  combat 
in  the  lowland.  By  his  movements  before  and  after  the  battle 
of  Kernstown,  Jackson,  with  about  four  thousand  men,  kept 
about  twenty-five  thousand  of  the  enemy  in  the  Yalley.  By 
his  movements  preceding  the  battle  of  Opequon,  Early,  with 
eight  or  ten  thousand  men,  kept  between  forty  and  fifty  thou 
sand  from  General  Meade's  army  at  Petersburg.  -That  he 
could  meet  the  Federal  force  in  his  front,  in  a  fair  pitched  bat 
tle,  was  not  probably  believed  by  himself  or  by  General  Lee. 
His  command  was  essentially  what  he  calls  it,  a  "  forlorn  hope  " 
—the  hope  that  it  could  cope  with  its  opponents  being  truly 
forlorn.  As  long  as  that  opponent  was  amused,  retarded,  or 


EARLY.  105 

<* 

kept  at  arm's  length,  all  was  well.  When  he  advanced  to 
attack  in  earnest,  it  was  doubtless  foreseen  that  the  thirty  or 
forty  thousand  bayonets  would  drive  back  the  eight  or  nine 
thousand.  That  result  followed  on  the  19th  of  September, 
when,  Sheridan  having  superseded  Hunter,  the  attack  was 
made  at  the  Opequon.  And  yet  nothing  is  better  established 
than  the  fact  that  up  to  the  moment  when  he  put  his  cavalry 
in  motion  against  the  Confederate  left,  General  Sheridan  had 
been  virtually  defeated.  Every  assault  of  his  great  force  of 
infantry  had  been  repulsed ;  and  nowhere  does  this  more 
clearly  appear  than  in  an  account  of  the  action  published  in 
Harpers  Magazine,  by  a  field  officer,  apparently  of  one  of  the 
Federal  regiments.  That  account  is  fair,  lucid,  and  records 
the  precise  truth,  namely,  that  every  advance  of  the  Federal 
infantry  was  met  and  repulsed.  Not  until  the  ten  thousand 
cavalry  of  General  Sheridan  advanced  on  the  Martinsburg 
road,  attained  the  Confederate  rear,  and  charged  them  in  flank 
and  rear,  was  there  the  least  wravering.  It  is  true  that  from 
that  moment  the  action  was  lost.  Early's  line  gave  way  in 
confusion  ;  his  artillery  was  fought  to  the  muzzle  of  the  guns, 
but  could  do  nothing  unsupported ;  and  that  night  the  Confe 
derate  forces  were  in  full  retreat  up  the  Valley. 

Such,  divested  of  all  gloss  and  rodomontade,  was  the  battle 
on  the  Opequon.  It  was  a  clear  and  unmistakable  defeat,  but 
the  reader  has  seen  what  produced  it.  'Not  want  of  general 
ship  in  the  Confederate  commander.  It  is  gross  injustice  to 
him  to  charge  him  with  the  responsibility  of  that  reverse  ;  and 
no  fair  mind,  North  or  South,  will  do  so.  He  was  defeated, 
because  the  force  opposed  to  him  was  such  as  his  command 
could  not  compete  with.  By  heroic  fighting,  the  little  band 
kept  back  the  swarming  forces  of  the  enemy,  holding  their 
ground  with  the  nerve  of  veterans  who  had  fought  in  a  hun 
dred  battles;  but  wheji  the  numerous  and  excellently  armed 
cavalry  of  the  enemy  thundered  down  upon  their  flank  and 
rear,  they  gave  up  the  struggle,  and  yielded  the  hard  fought 
day. 

The  second  act  of  this  exciting  drama  was  played  at  Fisher's 


106  WEARING    OF  THE   GRAY. 

Hill,  three  days  afterward.  Sullenly  retiring  like  a  wounded 
wolf,  who  snarls  and  shows  his  teeth  at  every  step,  Early  took 
up  a  position  on  the  great  range  of  hills  above  Strasburg,  and 
waited  to  be  attacked.  His  design  was  to  repulse  any  assault, 
arid  at  nightfall  retire ;  but  the  enemy's  large  numbers  ena 
bling  them  to  turn  his  flank,  they  drove  him  from  his  position, 
and  he  was  forced  to  fall  back  in  disorder,  with  heavy  loss. 
This  result  was  charged  upon  the  cavalry,  but  Early 's  small 
force  could  not  defend  the  ground,  and  the  Federals  assuredly 
gained  few  laurels  there.  So  heavy  had  been  the  blow  struck 
by  the  great  force  of  the  enemy  three  days  before,  that  it  is 
wonderful  how  the  Southern  troops  could  make  any  stand 
at  all.  Early 's  loss  in  the  battle  of  the  Opequon,  in  killed, 
wounded,  and  "  missing1' — that  terrible  item  in  a  defeated  and 
retreating  army — was  so  great,  that  it  is  doubtful  whether  his 
army,  when  it  stood  at  bay  on  Fisher's  Hill,  numbered  four 
thousand  muskets.  Such,  at  least,  is  the  statement  of  intelli 
gent  and  veracious  officers  who  took  part  in  the  engagement. 
They  are  unanimous  in  declaring  that  it  did  not  exceed  that 
number.  Sheridan's  force  they  declare  to  have  been  overpow 
ering,  but  the  Southern  troops  could  and  did  meet  it  when  the 
•  attack  was  made  in  front.  Not  until  the  great  force  of  the 
enemy  enabled  him  to  turn  the  left  flank  of  Early  and  sweep 
right  down  his  line  of  works,  did  the  troops  give  way.  Num 
bers  overcame  everything. 

Early  retreated  up  the  Valley,  where  he  continued  to  pre 
sent  a  defiant  front  to  the  powerful  force  of  Sheridan,  until  the 
middle  of  October.  On  the  19 ch  he  was  again  at  Cedar  Creek, 
between  Strasburg  and  Winchester,  and  had  struck  an  almost 
mortal  blow  at  General  Sheridan.  The  Federal  forces  were 
surprised,  attacked  at  the  same  moment  in  front  and  flank, 
and  driven  in  complete  rout  from  their  camps.  Unfortunately 
this  great  success  did  not  effect  substantial  results.  The  enemy, 
who  largely  outnumbered  Early,  especially  in  their  excellent 
cavalry,  re-formed  their  line  under  General  Wright.  Sheridan, 
who  had  just  arrived,  exerted  himself  to  retrieve  the  bad  for 
tune  of  the  day,  and  the  Confederates  were  forced  to  retire  in 


EAKLY.  107 

their  turn.  General  Early's  account  of  this  event  is  interesting  : 
"  I  went  into  this  fight,"  lie  says,  "  with  eight  thousand  five 
hundred  muskets,  about  forty  pieces  of  artillery,  and  about 
twelve  hundred  cavalry,  as  the  rest  of  my  cavalry,  which  was 
guarding  the  Luray  Valley,  did  not  get  up  in  time,  though 
ordered  to  move  at  the  same  time  I  moved  to  the  attack. 
Sheridan's  infantry  had  been  recruited  fully  up  to  its  strength 
at  Winchester,  and  his  cavalry  numbered  eight  thousand  seven 
hundred,  as  shown  by  the  official  reports  captured.  The  main 
cause  why  the  rout  of  his  army  in  the  morning  was  not  com 
plete,  was  the  fact  that  my  cavalry  could  not  compete  with  his, 
and  the  latter,  therefore,  remained  intact.  lie  claimed  all  his 
own  guns  that  had  been  captured  in  the  morning,  and  after 
ward  recaptured,  as  so  many  guns  captured  from  me,  whereas 
I  lost  only  twenty-three  guns ;  and  the  loss  of  these  arid  the 
wagons  which  were  taken,  was  mainly  owing  to  the  fact  that 
a  bridge,  on  a  narrow  part  of  the  road  between  Cedar  Creek 
and  Fisher's  Hill,  broke  down,  and  the  guns  and  wagons,  which 
latter  were  not  numerous,  could  not  be  brought  off.  Pursuit 
was  not  made  to  Mount  Jackson,  as  stated  by  both  Grant  and 
Stanton,  but  my  troops  were  halted  for  the  night  at  Fisher's 
Hill,  three  miles  from  Cedar  Creek,  and  the  next  day  moved 
back  to  New  Market,  six  miles  from  Mount  Jackson,  without 
any  pursuit  at  all." 

Thus  terminated  the  Valley  campaign  of  1864.  In  Novem 
ber,  Early  again  advanced  nearly  to  Winchester,  but  his  offer 
of  battle  was  refused,  and  he  went  into  winter  quarters  near 
Staunton,  with  the  small  arid  exhausted  force  which  remained 
with  him,  the  second  corps  having  been  returned  to  General 
Lee.  He  had  then  only  a  handful  of  cavalry  and  a  "  corpo 
ral's  guard  "  of  infantry.  In  February,  1865,  when  the  days  of 
the  Confederacy  were  numbered  and  the  end  was  near,  he  was 
to  give  the  quidnuncs  and  his  enemies  generally  one  more  op 
portunity  of  denouncing  his  bad  generalship  and  utter  unfit- 
ness  for  command.  In  those  dark  days,  when  hope  was  sink 
ing  and  the  public  "  pulse  was  low,"  every  reverse  enraged  the 
people.  The  whole  country  was  nervous,  excited,  irascible, 


108  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

exacting.  The  people  would  hear  no  explanations — they 
wanted  victories.  Such  was  the  state  of  public  sentiment 
when  intelligence  came  from  the  mountains  that  Early's 
"  army  "  had  been  again  attacked,  this  time  near  Staunton,  and 
owing  to  the  excessively  bad  generalship  of  that  officer,  had 
sustained  utter  and  ignominious  defeat.  How  many  thousands 
of  men  had  thus  been  defeated  was  not  exactly  stated  ;  but 
the  public  said  that  it  was  an  "army."  It  was  one  thousand 
infantry  and  about  six  pieces  of  artillery.  This  force  was 
attacked  by  two  divisions  of  cavalry,  numbering  five  thousand 
each — ten  thousand  in  all.  Early  had  not  a  mounted  man,  his 
entire  cavalry  force,  with  the  rest  of  his  artillery,  having  been 
sent  off  to  forage.  By  the  great  force  of  the  enemy,  Early 
was  driven  beyond  the  mountains,  his  command  hopelessly 
defeated,  and  his  name  was  everywhere  covered  with  obloquy 
and  insult.  He  said  nothing,  waiting  with  the  equanimity  of 
a  brave  man  for  the  moment  which  would  enable  him  to  justify 
himself.  He  has  done  it  now  ;  and  no  manly  heart  will  read 
his  noble  words  without  respect  for  this  true  patriot  and  fear 
less  soldier.  "  Obvious  reasons  of  policy,"  he  says,  "  prevented 
any  publication  of  these  facts  during  the  war,  and  it  will  now 
be  seen  that  I  was  leading  a  forlorn  hope  all  the  time,  and  the  peo 
ple  can  appreciate  the  character  of  tlie  victories  toon  by  Sheridan 
over  me." 

But  this  is  General  Early's  account  of  the  campaign,  it  may 
be  said.  It  is  natural — some  persons  even  now  may  say — that 
he  should  endeavour  by  u  special  pleading "  to  lift  from  his 
name  the  weight  of  obloquy,  and  strive  to  show  that  he  was  not 
deficient  in  military  ability,  in  courage,  skill,  and  energy.  The 
objection  is  just;  no  man  is  an  altogether  fair  witness  in  regard 
to  his  own  character  and  actions.  Somewhere,  a  fault  will  be 
palliated,  a  merit  exaggerated.  Fortunately  for  Early's  fame  — 
unfortunately  for  the  theory  of  his  enemies — a  document  of  the 
most  conclusive  character  exists,  and  with  that  paper  in  his  hand, 
the  brave  soldier  may  fearlessly  present  himself  before  the  bar 
of  history.  It  is  the  letter  of  General  Lee,  to  him,  dated  March 
30,  1865,  three  days  before  that  "beginning  of  the  end,"  the 


EARLY.  109 

evacuation  of  Petersburg.  The  clamour  against  Early  had  ac 
complished  the  object  of  many  of  those  who  raised  it.  His 
ability  was  distrusted;  he  was  regarded  as  unfit  for  command; 
"  remove  him !  "  was  the  cry  of  the  people.  Here  is  General 
Lee's  letter  relieving  him  of  his  command.  It  would  be  an 
injustice  to  the  good  name  of  Early  to  suppress  a  line  of  it. 

"  HD.  QRS.  C.  S.  ARMIES,  March  30,  1865. 
"  Lieut.- Gen.  J.  A.  EARLY,  Franklin  C.  H.,  Va. : 

"  DEAR  SIR  :  My  telegram  will  have  informed  you  that  I  deem 
a  change  of  commanders  in  your  department  necessary,  but  it  is 
due  to  your  zealous  and  patriotic  services  that  I  should  explain 
the  reasons  that  prompted  my  action.  The  situation  of  affairs 
is  such  that  we  can  neglect  no  means  calculated  to  develop  the 
resources  we  possess  to  the  greatest  extent,  and  make  them  as 
efficient  as  possible.  To  this  end  it  is  essential  that  we  should 
have  the  cheerful  and  hearty  support  of  the  people  and  the  full 
confidence  of  the  soldiers,  without  which  our  efforts  would  be 
embarrassed,  and  our  means  of  resistance  weakened.  I  have 
reluctantly  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  you  cannot  command 
the  united  and  willing  co-operation  which  is  so  essential  to  suc 
cess.  Your  reverses  in  the  Valley,  of  which  the  public  and  the 
army  judge  chiefly  by  the  results,  have,  I  fear,  impaired  your 
influence  both  with  the  people  and  the  soldiers,  and  would  add 
greatly  to  the  difficulties  which  will,  under  any  circumstances, 
attend  our  military  operations  in  S.  W.  Va.  While  my  own 
confidence  in  your  ability,  zeal,  and  devotion  to  the  cause,  is  un 
impaired,  I  have  nevertheless  felt  that  I  could  not  oppose  what 
seems  to  be  the  current  of  opinion,  without  injustice  to  your 
reputation  and  injury  to  the  service.  I  therefore  felt  constrained 
to  endeavour  to  find  a  commander  who  would  be  more  likely  to 
develop  the  strength  and  resources  of  the  country  and  inspire 
the  soldiers  with  confidence,  and  to  accomplish  this  purpose, 
thought  it  proper  to  yield  my  own  opinion,  and  defer  to  that  of 
those  to  whom  alone  we  can  look  for  support.  I  am  sure  that 
you  will  understand  and  appreciate  my  motives,  and  that  no  one 
will  be  more  ready  than  yourself  to  acquiesce  in  any  measure 


110  WEARING   OF  THE  GRAY. 

which  the  interests  of  the  country  may  seem  to  require,  regard 
less  of  all  personal  considerations.  Thanking  you  for  the  fidelity 
and  energy  with  which  you  have  always  supported  my  efforts, 
and  for  the  courage  and  devotion  you  have  ever  manifested  in 
the  service  of  the  country,  I  am,  very  respectfully  and  truly, 
your  obedient  servant,  "R.  E.  LEE,  General." 

In  defeat,  poverty,  and  exile,  this  recognition  of  his  merit  re 
mains  to  that  brave  soldier ;  and  it  is  enough.  There  is  some 
thing  better  than  the  applauses  of  the  multitude — something 
which  will  outweigh  in  history  the  clamour  of  the  ignorant  or 
the  hostile;  it  is  this  testimony  of  Robert  E.  Lee  to  the  "zeal 
ous  and  patriotic  services  "  of  the  man  to  whom  it  refers ;  to  the 
"ability,  zeal,  devotion,  fidelity,  energy,  and  courage"  which 'he 
had  "  ever  manifested  in  the  service  of  the  country,"  leaving  the 
" confidence "  of  the  Commander-in-Chief  in  him  "unimpaired." 


III. 

In  concluding  this  sketch,  an  attempt  will  be  made  to  give  the 
reader  some  idea  of  the  personal  character  and  appearance  of  the 
brave  man  who,  in  his  letter  from  Havana,  has  made  that  calm 
and  decorous  appeal  to  posterity. 

General  Early,  during  the  war,  appeared  to  be  a  person  of 
middle  age  ;  was  nearly  six  feet  in  height ;  and,  in  spite  of  severe 
attacks  of  rheumatism,  could  undergo  great  fatigue.  His  hair 
was  dark  and  thin,  his  eyes  bright,  his  smile  ready  and  expres 
sive,  though  somewhat  sarcastic.  His  dress  was  plain  gray, 
with  few  decorations.  Long  exposure  had  made  his  old  coat 
quite  dingy.  A  wide-brimmed  hat  overshadowed  his  sparkling 
eyes  and  forehead,  browned  by  sun  and  wind.  In  those  spark 
ling  eyes  could  be  read  the  resolute  character  of  the  man,  as  in 
his  smile  was  seen  the  evidence  of  that  dry,  trenchant,  often 
mordant  humour,  for  which  he  was  famous. 

The  keen  glance  drove  home  the  wit  or  humour,  and  every 
one  who  ventured  upon  word-combats  with  Lieutenant-General 


EAELY.  Ill 

Early  sustained  "  a  palpable  hit."  About  some  of  his  utterances 
there  was  a  grim  effectiveness  which  it  would  be  hard  to  excel. 
There  was  a  member  of  the  Virginia  Convention  who  had  called 
him  a  "  submissionist "  in  that  body,  but  when  the  war  com 
menced,  hired  a  substitute,  and  remained  at  home,  though 
healthy  and  only  forty.  Early  the  "submissionist"  went  into 
the  army,  fought  hard,  and  then  one  day  in  1862  met  his  quon 
dam  critic,  who  said  to  him,  "  It  was  very  hard  to  get  you  to  go 
out'1'1 — alluding  to  Early's  course  in  the  Convention  on  secession. 
Early's  eye  flashed,  his  lip  curled.  "  Yes,"  he  replied,  looking 
at  the  black  broadcloth  of  his  companion,  "  but  it  is  a  d — d  sight 
harder  to  get  you  up  to  the  fighting."  There  was  another  member 
of  the  Convention  who  had  often  criticised  him,  and  dwelt  upon 
the  importance  of  "  maintaining  our  rights  in  the  territories  at  all 
hazards.'1  This  gentleman,  being  aged,  did  not  go  into  the  army ; 
and  one  day  when  Early  met  him,  during  the  retreat  from 
Manassas,  the  General  said,  with  his  customary  wit,  "Well, 

Mr.  M ,  what  do  you  think  about  getting  our  rights  in  the 

territories  now?  It  looks  like  we  were  going  to  lose  some  of 
our  own  territory,  don't  it?"  When  General  Lee's  surrender 
was  announced  to  him,  while  lying  nearly  dead  in  his  ambulance, 
he  muttered  to  his  surgeon,  "  Doctor,  I  wish  there  was  powder 
enough  in  the  centre  of  the  earth  to  blow  it  to  atoms.  I  would 
apply  the  torch  with  the  greatest  pleasure.  If  Gabriel  ever 
means  to  blow  his  horn,  now  is  the  time  for  him  to  do  it — no 
more  joyful  sound  could  fall  on  my  ears." 

These  hits  he  evidently  enjoyed,  and  he  delivered  them  with  the 
coolness  of  a  swordsman  making  a  mortal  lunge.  In  fact,  every 
thing  about  General  Early  was  bold,  straightforward,  masculine, 
and  incisive.  Combativeness  was  one  of  his  great  traits. 

There  were  many  persons  in  and  out  of  the  army  who  doubted 
the  soundness  of  his  judgment;  there  were  none  who  ever 
called  in  question  the  tough  fibre  of  his  courage.  He  was  uni 
versally  recognised  in  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  as  one 
of  the  hardest  fighters  of  the  struggle;  and  every  confidence 
was  felt  in  him  as  a  combatant,  even  by  his  personal  enemies. 
This  repute  he  had  won  on  many  fields,  from  the  first  Manassas 


112  ,    WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

to  Winchester ;  for  one  of  the  hardest  fights  of  the  war,  if  it 
was  a  defeat,  was  that  affair  on  the  Opequon. 

It  was  not  so  much  good  judgment  that  General  Early  wanted 
in  his  Yalley  campaign,  as  troops.  He  was  "  leading  a  forlorn 
hope,"  and  forlorn  hopes  rarely  succeed.  "  He  has  done  as  well 
as  any  one  could,"  General  Lee  is  reported  to  have  said  ;  and  the 
Commander-in-Chief  had  better  opportunities  of  forming  a  cor 
rect  opinion  than  others. 

Returning  to  Early  the  man,  what  most  impressed  those  who 
were  thrown  with  him,  was  that  satirical,  sometimes  cynical 
humour,  and  the  force  and  vigour  of  his  conversation.  His 
voice  was  not  pleasing,  but  his  "  talk "  was  excellent.  His 
intellect  was  evidently  strong,  combative,  aggressive  in  all  do 
mains  of  thought ;  his  utterance  direct,  hard-hitting,  and  telling. 
He  was  a  forcible  speaker ;  had  been  successful  at  the  bar ; 
and  in  the  army,  as  in  civil  life,  made  his  way  by  the 
independent  force  of  his  mind  and  character — by  his  strong  will, 
sustained  energy,  and  the  native  vigour  of  his  faculties.  Sar 
castic  and  critical,  he  was  criticised  in  return,  as  a  man  of  rough 
address,  irascible  temperament,  and  as  wholly  careless  whom  he 
offended.  So  said  his  enemies — those  who  called  in  question 
his  brains  and  judgment.  What  they  could  not  call  in  ques 
tion,  however,  was  his  "  zeal,  fidelity,  and  devotion,"  or  they  will 
not  do  so  to-day.  Robert  E.  Lee  has  borne  his  supreme  and 
lasting  testimony  upon  that  subject,  and  the  brave  and  hardy 
soldier  who  led  that  forlorn  hope  in  the  Shenandoah  Yalley, 
when  the  hours  of  a  great  conflict  were  numbered,  and  dark 
ness  began  to  settle  like  a  pall  upon  the  land  illustrated  by  such 
heroic  struggles,  by  victories  so  splendid — the  brave  and  hardy 
Early  at  last  has  justice  done  him,  and  can  claim  for  himself 
that,  when  the  day  was  darkest,  when  all  hearts  desponded,  he 
was  zealous,  faithful,  devoted.  If  the  world  is  not  convinced  by 
the  testimony  of  Lee,  that  this  man  was  devoted  to  his  country, 
and  true  as  steel  to  the  flag  under  which  he  fought — true  to  it  in 
disaster  and  defeat  as  in  success  and  victory — let  them  read  the 
letter  of  the  exile,  signing  himself  "  J.  A.  Early,  Lieut.-Gen. 
C.  S.  A." 


VII. 
MOSBY. 


i. 

I  was  reading  the  other  day  a  work  entitled  "  Jack  Mosby, 

the  Guerilla,"  by  a  certain  "Lieutenant-Colonel  ,"  of  the 

United  States  Army.  The  book  is  exceedingly  sanguinary. 
Colonel  Mosby  is  therein  represented  as  a  tall,  powerful,  black- 
bearded,  cruel,  and  remorseless  brigand  of  the  Fra  Diavolo  order, 
whose  chief  amusement  was  to  hang  up  Federal  soldiers  by  their 
arms,  and  kindle  fires  under  their  feet — for  what  reason  is  not  ex 
plained  ;  and  when  not  thus  pleasantly  engaged,  he  is  described 
as  cutting  down  the  unfortunate  bluecoats  with  a  tremendous 
sabre,  or  riddling  them  with  bullets  from  an  extensive  assortment 
of  pistols  in  his  belt.  He  has  a  sweetheart — for  "  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  "  enters  into  his  hero's  most  private  affairs — who 

makes  love  to  Union  officers,  and  leads  them  into  the  toils  of  the 
remorseless  Mosby.  That  individual  exclaims  in  moments  of 
excitement,  u  Confusion ! "  after  the  universal  fashion  of  Con 
federate  States  officers  in  the  late  war ;  and  in  order  to  make  the 
history  of  his  life  a  full  and  comprehensive  one,  the  minutest 
particulars  are  given  of  his  well  known  scheme  to  burn  the  city 
of  New  York — a  brilliant  idea,  exclusively  belonging  to  this 
celebrated  bandit,  who  is  vividly  represented  in  a  cheap  wood 
cut  as  pouring  liquid  phosphorus  on  his  bed  at  the  Astor 
House.  This  biographical  work  is  "  profusely  illustrated,"  beau 
tifully  bound  in  a  yellow  paper  cover,  and  the  price  is  "  only 
ten  cents." 

It  may  be  said  that  this  is,  after  all,  a  species  of  literature,  "  so- 

8 


114  WEARING   OF  THE    GRAY. 

called,"  such  as  no  person  of  character  or  intelligence  ever  reads. 

Such  is  doubtless  the  truth  in  regard  to  Lieutenant-Colonel 's 

silly  performance ;  but  is  it  equally  certain  that  there  are  no 
citizens  of  the  Northern  States,  both  fair-minded  and  cultivated, 
who  regard  Colonel  Mosby  in  some  such  light  as  that  in  which 
he  is  here  represented  ?  I  am  afraid  the  number  is  considerable. 
He  has  been  so  persistently  described  as  a  desperado,  such  as 
infests  the  outskirts  of  civilization,  that  some  impression  must 
have  been  made  by  his  traducers.  Dr.  Johnson  said  that  almost 
anything  could  be  accomplished  by  incessantly  talking  about  it ; 
and  so  many  people  have  reiterated  these  charges  against  Colonel 
Mosby,  that  a  belief  in  them  has,  beyond  any  doubt,  fixed  itself 
upon  the  minds  of  many  fair  and  candid  persons.  It  is  for  this 
class,  whose  good  opinion  is  worth  something,  that  I  propose  to 
state  the  truth  in  relation  to  his  character  and  career.  Though 
in  no  manner  attached  to  his  command,  the  present  writer  occu 
pied  a  position  during  the  late  war  which  enabled  him  to  watch 
this  officer's  operations  from  the  commencement  almost  to  the 
end  of  the  struggle;  and  what  is  here  set  down  in  relation  to 
him  may  be  relied  upon  as  an  honest  statement  by  one  who  has 
no  object  in  the  world  in  making  it  except  to  record  the  truth. 

Without  further  preface,  it  may  surprise  some  of  my  North 
ern  readers  to  hear  that  this  man,  figuring  in  the  popular  eye  as 
a  ruffian  and  low  adventurer,  was  born  and  bred,  and  is  in 
character  and  manners,  a  gentleman.  His  family  is  one  of 
standing  and  intelligence  in  Virginia,  and  he  was  educated  at 
the  University  of  Virginia,  where  he  studied  law.  He  com 
menced  the  practice,  married,  and  would  probably  have  passed 
through  life  as  a  "county  court  lawyer  "  had  not  the  war  taken 
place.  When  Virginia  seceded  he  imitated  other  young  men, 
and  embarked  in  the  struggle  as  a  private  in  a  regiment  of 
cavalry.  Here  he  exhibited  courage  and  activity,  and  eventu 
ally  became  first-lieutenant  and  adjutant.  When  the  miserable 
"reorganization  "  system  of  the  Confederate  States  government 
went  into  operation  in  the  spring  of  1862,  and  the  men  were 
allowed  to  select  their  officers,  Mosby — never  an  easy  or  indul 
gent  officer — was  thrown  out,  and  again  became  a  private.  •  He 


MOSBY.  115 

returned  to  the  ranks ;  but  his  energy  and  activity  had  been 
frequently  exhibited,  and  General  Stuart,  who  possessed  a 
remarkable  talent  for  discovering  conspicuous  military  merit  of 
any  sort  in  obscure  persons,  speedily  sent  for  him,  and  from  that 
time  employed  him  as  a  scout  or  partisan.  It  is  proper  to  warn 
the  reader  here  that  a  scout  is  not  a  spy.  Mosby's  duty  was  to 
penetrate  the  region  of  country  occupied  by  the  Federal  forces, 
either  alone  or  in  command  of  a  small  detachment  of  cavalry  ; 
and  by  hovering  in  the  woods  around  the  Union  camps,  interro 
gating  citizens,  or  capturing  pickets  or  stragglers,  acquire  infor 
mation  of  the  enemy's  numbers,  position,  or  designs.  If  this 
information  could  be  obtained  without  a  collision,  all  the  better; 
but,  if  necessary,  it  was  the  duty  and  the  habit  of  the  Scouts  to 
attack,  or  when  attacked,  hold  their  ground  as  long  as  possible. 
In  other  words,  there  was  inaugurated  in  the  country  occupied 
by  the  Federal  forces  a  regular  system  of  partisan  warfare,  the 
object  of  which  was  to  harass  the  invading  force,  and  in  every 
way  impair  its  efficiency. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  I  first  saw  Mosby,  and  his  appearance 
was  wholly  undistinguished.  He  was  thin,  wiry,  and  I  should 
say  about  five  feet  nine  or  ten  inches  in  height.  A  slight  stoop 
in  the  neck  was  not  ungraceful.  The  chin  was  carried  well 
forward  ;  the  lips  were  thin  and  wore  a  somewhat  satirical  smile ; 
the  eyes,  under  the  brown  felt  hat,  were  keen,  sparkling,  and 
roved  curiously  from  side  to  side.  He  wore  a  gray  uniform, 
with  no  arms  but  two  revolvers  in  his  belt ;  the  sabre  was  no 
favourite  with  him.  His  voice  was  low,  and  a  smile  was  often 
on  his  lips.  He  rarely  sat  still  ten  minutes.  Such  was  his 
appearance  at  that  time.  No  one  would  have  been  struck  with 
anything  noticeable  in  him  except  the  ey<^  These  flashed  at 
times  in  a  way  which  might  have  induced  the  opinion  that  there 
was  something  in  the  man,  if  it  only  had  an  opportunity  to 
"  come  out." 

I  am  not  aware  that  he  gained  any  reputation  in  the  campaign 
of  1862.  He  was  considered,  however,  by  General  Stuart  an 
excellent  scout  and  partisan  ;  and  the  General  once  related  to  the 
present  writer  with  great  glee,  the  manner  in  -which  Mosby  had 


116  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

taken  nine  men,  deployed  them  over  several  hundred  yards,  and 
advanced,  firing  steadily  upon  a  whole  brigade  of  Federal 
cavalry,  which  hastily  retired  under  the  impression  that  the 
attacking  force  was  heavy.  Such  things  were  common  with 
Mosby,  whp  seemed  to  enjoy  them  greatly  ;  but  in  the  spring 
of  1862  the  tables  were  turned  upon  the  partisan.  General 
Stuart  sent  him  from  the  Chickahominy  to  carry  a  confidential 
message  to  General  Jackson,  then  in  the  Yalley.  He  was  rest 
ing  at  one  of  the  wayside  stations  on  the  Central  Railroad  while 
his  horse  was  feeding,  when  a  detachment  of  Federal  cavalry  sur 
prised  and  captured  him — making  prize  also  of  a  private  note 
from  Stuart  to  Jackson,  and  a  copy  of  Napoleon's  "Maxims" 
accompanying  it.  Mosby  was  carried  to  the  Old  Capitol,  but 
was  soon  exchanged ;  and  chancing  to  discover  on  his  route 
down  the  bay  that  General  Burnside  was  going  soon  to  reinforce 
General  Pope  in  Culpeper,  he  hastened  on  his  arrival  with 
that  important  information  to  General  Lee,  who  telegraphed  it, 
doubtless,  to  General  Jackson  at  Gordonsville.  It  is  probable 
that  the  battle  of  Cedar  Run,  where  General  Pope  was  defeated, 
was  fought  by  Jackson  in  consequence  of  this  information. 

My  object,  however,  is  not  to  write  a  biography  of  Colonel 
Mosby.  It  is  fortunate  that  such  is  not 'my  design  ;  for  a  career 
of  wonderful  activity  extending  over  about  three  years  could 
not  be  condensed  into  a  brief  paper.  I  shall  speak  of  but  one  or 
two  other  incidents  in  his  career ;  and  one  shall  be  his  surprise 
of  Brigadier-General  Stoughton  at  Fairfax  Court-House  in  the 
winter  of  1862.  This  affair  excited  unbounded  indignation  on 
the  part  of  many  excellent  people,  though  President  Lincoln 
made  a  jest  of  it.  Let  us  not  see  if  it  was  not  a  legitimate  partisan 
operation.  It  was  in  November,  I  believe,  that  Mosby  received 
the  information  leading  to  his  movement.  The  Federal  forces 
at  that  time  occupied  the  region  between  Fredericksburg  and 
Alexandria ;  and  as  General  Stuart's  activity  and  energy  were 
just  causes  of  solicitude,  a  strong  body  of  infantry,  cavalry,  and 
artillery,  was  posted  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Fairfax  Court- 
House  and  Centreville.  Colonel  Wyndham  was  in  command 
of  the  cavalry,  and  Acting  Brigadier-General  Stoughton,  a  young 


MOSBY.  117 

officer  from  West  Point,  commanded  the  whole  district,  with  his 
headquarters  in  the  small  village  of  Fairfax.  Mosby  formed 
the  design  of  capturing  General  Stoughton,  Colonel  Wyndham, 
Colonel  Johnson,  and  other  officers;  and  sent  scouts  to  the 
neighbourhood  to  ascertain  the  force  there.  They  brought 
word  that  a  strong  body  of  infantry  and  artillery  was  at  Centre- 
vine  ;  Colonel  Wyndham's  brigade  of  cavalry  at  Germantown, 
a  mile  from  Fairfax ;  and  toward  the  railroad  station  another 
brigade  of  infantry.  Fairfax  thus  appeared  to  be  inclosed  within 
a  cordon  of  all  arms,  rendering  it  wholly  impossible  even  to 
approach  it.  Those  who  know  the  ground,  as  many  of  my 
readers  doubtless  do,  will  easily  understand  how  desperate  the 
undertaking  appeared  of  penetrating  to  the  town,  and  safely 
carrying  off  the  Federal  commandant.  It  was  one  of  those 
schemes,  however,  whose  very  boldness  is  apt  to  cause  them  to 
succeed.  Men  rarely  guard  against  dangers  which  they  do  not 
dream  it  possible  can  threaten  them.  Mosby  doubtless  based  his 
calculations  upon  this  fact ;  at  any  rate  he  decided  upon  the 
movement,  and  with  twenty-nine  men  set  out  one  dark  and 
drizzling  November  night  for  the  scene  of  operations.  Newspa 
per  writers  of  the  day  stated  that  the  party  were  dressed  in 
Federal  uniforms.  This  is  not  true.  There  was  no  sort  of 
advantage  in  any  such  precaution.  The  party  had  to  steal  off 
with  their  captures,  if  any  were  made,  or  cut  their  way  through, 
and  on  that  black  night  no  uniform  was  discernible.  Mosby 
approached  Germantown  by  the  Little  River  turnpike;  but  fear 
ing  Wyndham's  cavalry,  obliqued  to  the  right,  and  took  to  the 
woods  skirting  the  Warrenton  road.  Centreville  was  thus,  with 
its  garrison,  on  his  right  and  rear,  Germantown  on  his  left,  and 
Fairfax,  winged  with  infantry  camps,  in  his  front.  It  was  now 
raining  heavily,  and  the  night  was  like  pitch.  The  party 
advanced  by  bridle-paths  through  the  woods,  thus  avoiding  the 
pickets  of  the  main  avenues  of  approach,  and  the  incessant  patter 
of  the  rain  drowned  the  hoof-strokes  of  the  horses.  A  mile  from 
Fairfax  the  gleam  of  tents  greeted  them  in  front,  and  finding  the 
approaches  barred  in  that  direction  they  silently  obliqued  to  the 
right  again,  crossed  the  Warrenton  road,  and  gradually  drew 


118  WEARING   OF   THE    GRAY. 

near  the  town  on  the  southern  side.  Again  the  woods  and  the 
rain  served  them.  Their  advance  was  undiscovered,  and  at  last 
they  were  close  upon  the  place.  An  infantry  picket  was  the 
only  obstacle,  but  this  was  soon  removed.  The  sleepy  vidctte 
found  a  pistol  at  his  breast,  and  the  picket  was  compelled  to  sur 
render  without  firing  a  shot.  The  way  was  then  clear,  and 
Mosby  entered  the  town  at  a  gallop.  His  object  was  to  capture 
the  Federal  officers  known  to  be  in  the  place,  burn  the  public 
stores,  and  carry  off  as  many  horses  as  possible.  His  party  was 
accordingly  divided  for  these  purposes,  and  Mosby  himself  pro 
ceeded  to  General  Stoughton's  residence.  It  was  afterwards 
said  that  a  young  lady  of  the  place,  Miss  Ford,  had  supplied  him 
with  information,  and  now  led  him  personally  to  the  house. 
This,  Colonel  Mosby  stated  to  the  present  writer,  was  entirely^ 
mistake ;  he  received  information  neither  from  Miss  Ford  nor  any 
one  else,  except  his  own  scouts.  To  accompany  him,  however,  in 
his  visit  to  General  Stoughton,  he  found  an  orderly  at  the  door, 
who  was  taken  charge  of  by  one  of  the  men,  and  then  mounted 
to  the  general's  bedchamber,  the  occupant  of  which  was  fast 
asleep.  At  Mosby 's  unceremonious  "  Get  up,  General,  and  come 
with  me!"  the  sleeper  started  erect,  and  demanded:  "Do  }rou 
know  who  I  am,  sir?"  apparently  indignant  at  such  want  of 
ceremony.  "Do  you  know  Mosby,  General?"  was  the  reply. 
"  Yes,"  was  the  eager  response,  "  have  you  got  the  —  -  rascal  ?" 
"  No,  but  he  has  got  you  !  "  And  to  the  startled  "  What  does 
this  mean,  sir?'"  of  General  Stoughton,  Mosby  replied,  "  It  means 
that  General  Stuart's  cavalry  are  in  possession  of  the  Court-House, 
sir,  and  that  you  are  my  prisoner."  This  disagreeable  state  of 
affairs  slowly  dawned  upon  the  aroused  sleeper,  and  he  soon  found 
himself  dressed,  mounted,  and  ready  to  set  out — a  prisoner.  Seve 
ral  staff  officers  had  also  been  captured,  and  a  considerable  num 
ber  of  horses — Colonels  Wyndham  and  Johnson  eluded  the  search 
for  them.  Deciding  not  to  burn  the  public  stores  which  were  in 
the  houses,  Mosby  then  mounted  all  his  prisoners — some  thirty- 
five,  I  believe,  in  number,  including  about  half-a-dozen  officers — 
cautiously  retraced  his  steps,  passing  over  the  very  same  ground, 
and  stealing  along  about  down  under  the  muzzles  of  the  guns  in 


MOSBY.  119 

the  works  at  Centreville,  so  close  that  the  sentinel  hailed  the 
party,  swam  Cub  Kun,  struck  southward,  and  at  sunrise  was 
safe  beyond  pursuit. 

II. 

The  skill  and  boldness  exhibited  in  the  conception  and  exe 
cution  of  this  raid  conferred  upon  Mosby  just  fame  as  a  partisan 
officer,  and  the  regular  organization  of  his  command  commenced. 
He  was  made  captain,  then  major,  then  lieutenant-colonel,  and 
colonel,  as  his  force  and  his  operations  increased. 

From  the  solitary  scout,  or  humble  partisan,  operating  with  a 
small  squad,  he  had  now  grown  to  be  an  officer  of  rank  and  dis 
tinction,  entrusted  with  important, duties,  and  eventually  with 
the  guardianship  of  the  whole  extent  of  country  north  of  the 
Rappahannock  and  east  of  the  Blue  Ridge.  The  people  of  the 
region  speak  of  it,  with  a  laugh,  as  "  Mosby's  Confederacy,"  and 
the  name  will  probably  adhere  to  it,  in  the  popular  mind,  for 
many  years  to  come.  Let  us  pass  to  these  latter  days  when 
u  Colonel  "  Mosby  gave  the  Federal  forces  so  much  trouble,  and 
aroused  so  much  indignation  in  Custer,  Sheridan,  and  others, 
whose  men  he  captured,  and  whose  convoys  he  so  frequently  cut 
off  and  destroyed.  The  question  of  most  interest  is — Was  Colonel 
Mosby  a  partisan  officer,  engaged  in  a  perfectly  legitimate  war 
fare,  or  was  he  a  mere  robber?  The  present  writer  regards  any 
imputations  upon  the  character  of  this  officer,  or  upon  the  nature 
of  the  warfare  which  he  carried  on,  as  absurd.  If  the  Confederate 
States  army  generally  was  a  mere  unlawful  combination,  and 
not  entitled  to  be  regarded  as  "  belligerent,"  the  case  is  made 
out;  but  there  was  no  officer  in  that  army  who  occupied  a 
more  formally  official  position  than  Mosby,  or  whose  operations 
more  perfectly  conformed  to  the  rules  of  civilized  warfare.  Vir 
ginia  was  invaded  by  the  Federal  forces,  and  large  portions  of 
her  territory  were  occupied  and  laid  under  contribution.  Espe 
cially  was  the  country  north  of  the  Rappahannock  thus  exposed. 
It  was  a  species  of  border-land  which  belonged  to  the  party 
which  could  hold  it;  and  to  protect  it  from  the  inroads  of 


120  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

the  Federal  forces,  Mosby  instituted  a  regular  system  of  parti 
san  warfare.  His  headquarters  were  generally  near  Upperville, 
just  east  of  the  ridge,  and  his  scouts  speedily  brought  him  intelli 
gence  of  any  advance  of  the  Federal  cavalry.  As  soon  as  he  was 
informed  of  their  approach,  he  went  to  meet  them,  hovered  near 
them,  took  his  moment,  and  attacked  them,  his  superior  skill 
and  knowledge  of  the  country  almost  uniformly  routing  the  force 
opposed  to  him.  Another  important  part  of  his  duty  was  to  cut 
off  and  capture  or  destroy  the  trains  of  his  adversaries.  These 
things  were  exceedingly  annoying,  and  made  the  Federal  com 
manders  whose  movements  were  thus  crippled  quite  furious 
against  the  author  of  their  embarrassments — but  no  person  with 
the  least  knowledge  of  military  affairs  will  stigmatize  the  de 
struction  of  wagon  trains  as  the  work  of  a  brigand.  In  the  sarne 
manner  the  railroads  supplying  the  Federal  forces  with  commis 
sary  and  other  stores  were  destroyed  wherever  it  could  be  done. 
Detached  parties  out  foraging  were,  if  possible,  captured.  Camps, 
picket  posts,  vedette  stations,  were  surprised,  when  practicable, 
and  prisoners  seized  upon.  To  harass,  annoy,  injure,  and  in 
every  manner  cripple  or  embarrass  the  opposing  force,  was  the 
object  of  Colonel  Mosby,  as  it  has  been  of  partisan  officers  in 
all  the  wars  of  history.  The  violent  animosity  felt  toward  him 
was  attributable  solely  to  the  great  skill,  vigour,  and  success  of 
his  operations.  The  present  writer  has  a  tolerably  full  acquaint 
ance  with  the  military  record  of  Colonel  Mosby  and  his  com 
mand,  and  he  states,  in  all  sincerity,  that  he  can  find  in  it  nothing 
whatever  that  is  "  irregular  "  or  unworthy  of  an  officer  and  a 
gentleman.  Mosby  carried  on  a  legitimate  partisan  warfare 
under  a  regular  commission  from  the  President  of  the  Confede 
rate  States,  and  was  in  command  of  a  regularly  organized  body 
of  cavalry.  He  announced  clearly  his  intention  of  disputing 
military  possession  of  the  country  north  of  the  Kappahannock, 
of  harassing,  retarding,  or  crippling  any  force  invading  Virginia, 
and  of  inflicting  as  much  injury  as  possible  upon  his  opponents. 
One  single  act  of  seeming  cruelty  is  charged  against  him,  the 
hanging  of  seven  of  Custer's  men — but  this  was  in  retaliation  for 
seven  of  his  own  which  had  been  executed  by  that  officer.  This 


MOSBY.  121 

retaliation  was  in  accordance  with  the  rales  of  warfare  in  every 
country,  and  his  superiors  disavowed  the  course  of  General  Ous 
ter,  and  directed  such  proceedings  to  cease. 

We  have  expended  too  much  space  upon  this  point.  Colonel 
Mosby  can  aiford  to  wait  to  have  justice  done  him.  He  was 
respected  by  Jackson,  Stuart,  and  Lee,  and  the  world  will  not 
willingly  believe  him  to  have  been  a  bandit. 

III. 

What  was  the  appearance  and  character  of  the  actual  indi 
vidual?  What  manner  of  personages  were  "Mosby  and  his 
men,"  as  they  really  lived,  and  moved,  and  had  their  being  in 
the  forests  and  on  the  hills  of  Fauquier,  in  Virginia,  in  the  years 
1863  and  1864?  If  the  reader  will  accompany  me,  I  will  con 
duct  him  to  this  beautiful  region  swept  by  the  mountain  winds, 
and  will  introduce  him — remember,  the  date  is  1864 — to  a  plain 
and  unassuming  personage  clad  in  gray,  with  three  stars  upon 
his  coat-collar,  and  two  pistols  in  his  belt. 

He  is  slender,  gaunt,  and  active  in  figure ;  his  feet  are  small, 
and  cased  in  cavalry  boots,  with  brass  spurs  ;  and  the  revolvers 
in  his  belt  are  worn  with  an  air  of  "  business  "  which  is  unmis 
takable.  The  face  of  this  person  is  tanned,  beardless,  youthful- 
looking,  and  pleasant.  He  has  white  and  regular  teeth,  which 
his  habitual  smile  reveals.  His  piercing  eyes  flash  out  from 
beneath  his  brown  hat,  with  its  golden  cord,  and  he  reins  in  his 
horse  with  the  ease  of  a  practised  rider.  A  plain  soldier,  low 
and  slight  of  stature,  ready  to  talk,  to  laugh,  to  ride,  to  oblige 
you  in  any  way — such  was  Mosby,  in  outward  appearance. 
Nature  had  given  no  sign  but  the  restless,  roving,  flashing  eye, 
that  there  was  much  worth  considering  beneath.  The  eye  did 
not  convey  a  false  expression.  The  commonplace  exterior  of 
the  partisan  concealed  one  of  the  most  active,  daring,  and  pene 
trating  minds  of  an  epoch  fruitful  in  such.  Mosby  was  born  to 
be  a  partisan  leader,  and  as  such  was  probably  greater  than  any 
other  who  took  part  in  the  late  war.  He  had  by  nature  all  the 
.  qualities  which  make  the  accomplished  ranger ;  nothing  could 


122  WEARING   OF   THE   GRAY. 

daunt  him ;  his  activity  of  mind  and  body — call  it,  if  you  choose, 
restless,  eternal  love  of  movement — was  something  wonderful ; 
and  that  untiring  energy  which  is  the  secret  of  half  the  great 
successes  of  history,  drove  him  incessantly  to  plan,  to  scheme,  to 
conceive,  and  to  execute.  He  could  not  rest  when  there  was 
anything  to  do,  and  scouted  for  his  amusement,  charging  pickets 
solus  by  way  of  sport.  On  dark  and  rainy  nights,  when  other 
men  aim  at  being  comfortably  housed,  Mosby  liked  to  be  moving 
with  a  detachment  of  his  men  to  surprise  and  attack  ^some 
Federal  camp,  or  to  "  run  in  "  some  picket,  and  occasion  con 
sternation,  if  not  inflict  injury. 

The  peculiar  feature  of  his  command  was  that  the  men  occu 
pied  no  stated  camp,  and,  in  fact,  were  never  kept  together 
except  on  an  expedition.  They  were  scattered  throughout  the 
country,  especially  among  the  small  farm-houses  in  the  spurs  of 
the  Blue  Kidge ;  and  here  they  lived  the  merriest  lives  imagin 
able.  They  were  subjected  to  none  of  the  hardships  and  priva 
tions  of  regular  soldiers.  Their  horses  were  in  comfortable 
stables,  or  ranged  freely  over  excellent  pastures ;  the  men  lived 
with  the  families,  slept  in  beds,  and  had  nothing  to  do  with 
"rations"  of  hard  bread  and  bacon.  Milk,  butter,  and  all  the 
household  luxuries  of  peace  were  at  their  command  ;  and  not 
until  their  chief  summoned  them  did  they  buckle  on  their  arms 
arid  get  to  horse.  While  they  were  thus  living  on  the  fat  of  the 
land,  Mosby  was  perhaps  scouting  off  on  his  private  account, 
somewhere  down  toward  Manassas,  Alexandria,  or  Leesburg. 
If  his  excursions  revealed  an  opening  for  successful  operations, 
he  sent  off  a  well  mounted  courier,  who  travelled  rapidly  to  the 
first  nest  of  rangers  ;  thence  a  fresh  courier  carried  the  summons 
elsewhere ;  and  in  a  few  hours  twenty,  thirty,  or  fifty  men, 
excellently  mounted,  made  their  appearance  at  the  prescribed 
rendezvous.  The  man  who  disregarded  or  evaded  the  second 
summons  to  a  raid  was  summarily  dealt  with  ;  he  received  a  note 
for  delivery  to  General  Stuart,  and  on  reaching  the  cavalry  head 
quarters  was  directed  to  return  to  the  company  in  the  regular 
service  from  which  he  had  been  transferred.  This  seldom  hap 
pened,  however.  The  men  were  all  anxious  to  go  upon  raids, 


MOSBY.  123 

to  share  the  rich  spoils,  and  were  prompt  at  the  rendezvous. 
Once  assembled,  the  rangers  fell  into  column,  Mosby  said 
"  Come  on,"  and  the  party  set  forward  upon  the  appointed 
task — to  surprise  some  camp,  capture  an  army  train,  or  ambush 
some  detached  party  of  Federal  cavalry  out  on  a  foraging  expe 
dition. 

Such  a  life  is  attractive  to  the  imagination,  and  the  men  came 
to  have  a  passion  for  it.  But  it  is  a  dangerous  service.  It  may 
with  propriety  be  regarded  as  a  trial  of  wits  between  the  oppos 
ing  commanders.  The  great  praise  of  Mosby  was,  that  his 
superior  skill,  activity,  and  good  judgment  gave  him  almost 
uninterrupted  success,  and  invariably  saved  him  from  capture. 
An  attack  upon  Colonel  Cole,  of  the  Maryland  cavalry,  near 
Loudon  Heights,  in  the  winter  of  1863-64,  was  his  only  serious 
failure ;  and  that  appears  to  have  resulted  from  a  disobedience 
of  his  orders.  He  had  here  some  valuable  officers  and  men 
killed.  He  was  several  times  wounded,  but  never  taken.  On 
the  last  occasion,  in  1864,  he  was  shot  through  the  window  of  a 
house  in  Fauquier,  but  managed  to  stagger  into  a  darkened 
room,  tear  off  his  stars,  the  badges  of  his  rank,  and  counterfeit 
a  person  mortally  wounded.  His  assailants  left  him  dying,  as 
they  supposed,  without  discovering  his  identity  ;  and  when  they 
did  discover  it  and  hurried  back,  he  had  been  removed  beyond 
reach  of  peril.  After  his  wounds  he  always  reappeared  paler 
and  thinner,  but  more  active  and  untiring  than  ever.  They 
only  seemed  to  exasperate  him,  and  make  him  more  dangerous 
to  trains,  scouting  parties,  and  detached  camps  than  before. 

The  great  secret  of  his  success  was  undoubtedly  his  unbounded 
energy  and  enterprise.  General  Stuart  came  finally  to  repose 
unlimited  confidence  in  his  resources,  and  relied  implicitly  upon 
him.  The  writer  recalls  an  instance  of  this  in  June,  1863. 
General  Stuart  was  then  near  Middleburg,  watching  the  United 
States  army — then  about  to  move  toward  Pennsylvania — but 
could  get  no  accurate  information  from  his  scouts.  Silent,  puz 
zled,  and  doubtful,  the  General  walked  up  and  down,  knitting 
his  bro\vs  and  reflecting,  when  the  lithe  figure  of  Mosby  ap 
peared,  and  Stuart  uttered  an  exclamation  of  relief  and  satis- 


124  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

faction.  They  were  speedily  in  private  consultation,  and  Mosby 
only  came  out  again  to  mount  his  quick  gray  mare  and  set  out, 
in  a  heavy  storm,  for  the  Federal  camps.  On  the  next  day  he 
returned  with  information  which  put  the  entire  cavalry  in  mo 
tion.  He  had  penetrated  General  Hooker's  camps,  ascertained 
everything,  and  safely  returned.  This  had  been  done  in  his 
gray  uniform,  with  his  pistols  at  his  belt — and  I  believe  it  was 
on  this  occasion  that  he  gave  a  characteristic  evidence  of  his 
coolness.  He  had  captured  a  Federal  cavalry-man,  and  they 
were  riding  on  together,  when  suddenly  they  struck  a  column  of 
the  enemy's  cavalry  passing.  Mosby  drew  his  oil -cloth  around 
him,  cocked  his  pistol,  and  said  to  his  companion,  "  If  you  make 
any  sign  or  utter  a  word  to  have  me  captured,  I  will  blow  your 
brains  out,  and  trust  to  the  speed  of  my  horse  to  escape.  Keej> 
quiet,  and  we  will  ride  on  without  troubling  anybody."  His 
prisoner  took  the  hint,  believing  doubtless  that  it  was  better  to 
be  a  prisoner  than  a  dead  man  ;  and  after  riding  along  carelessly 
for  some  distance,  as  though  he  were  one  of  the  column,  Mosby 
gradually  edged  off,  and  got  away  safely  with  his  prisoner. 

But  the  subject  beguiles  us  too  far.  The  hundreds  of  adven 
tures  in  which  Mosby  bore  his  part  must  be  left  for  that  extended 
record  which  will  some  day  be  made.  My  chief  object  in  this 
brief  paper  has  been  to  anticipate  the  sanguinary  historians  of 
the  "  Lieutenant-Colonel —  '  order ;  to  show  that  Colonel 
Mosby  was  no  black-browed  ruffian,  but  a  plain,  unassuming 
officer  of  partisans,  who  gained  his  widely-extended  reputation 
by  that  activity  and  energy  which  only  men  of  military  ability 
possess.  This  information  in  regard  to  the  man  is  intended,  as 
I  have  said,  for  Northern  readers  of  fairness  and  candour ;  for 
that  class  who  would  not  willingly  do  injustice  even  to  an  adver 
sary.  In  Virginia,  Mosby  is  perfectly  well  known,  and  it  would 
be  unnecessary  to  argue  here  that  the  person  who  enjoyed  the 
respect  and  confidence  of  Lee,  Stuart,  and  Jackson,  was  worthy 
of  it.  Mosby  was  regarded  by  the  people  of  Virginia  in  his 
true  light  as  a  man  of  great  courage,  decision,  and  energy,  who 
embarked  like  others  in  a  revolution  whose  principles  and 
objects  he  fully  approved.  In  the  hard  struggle  he  fought 


MOSBY.  125 

bravely,  exposed  his  person  without  stint,  and  overcame  his 
opponents  by  superior  military  ability.  To  stigmatize  him  as  a 
ruffian  because  he  was  a  partisan  is  to  throw  obloquy  upon  the 
memory  of  Marion,  Sumter,  and  Harry  Lee,  of  the  old  Revolu- 
tion.  As  long  as  war  lasts,  surprise  of  an  enemy  will  continue 
to  be  a  part  of  military  tactics ;  the  destruction  of  his  trains, 
munitions,  stores,  and  communications,  a  legitimate  object  of 
endeavour.  This  Mosby  did  with  great  success,  and  he  had  no 
other  object  in  view.  The  charge  that  he  fought  for  plunder  is 
singularly  unjust.  The  writer  of  this  is  able  to  state  of  his  own 
knowledge  that  Colonel  Mosby  rarely  appropriated  anything  to 
his  own  use,  unless  it  were  arms,  a  saddle,  or  a  captured  horse, 
when  his  own  was  worn  out ;  and  to-day,  the  man  who  cap 
tured  millions  in  stores  and  money  is  poorer  than  when  he 
entered  upon  the  struggle. 

This  paper,  written  without  the  knowledge  of  Colonel  Mosby, 
who  is  merely  an  acquaintance,  of  the  writer,  and  intended  as  a 
simple  delineation  of  the  man,  has,  in  some  manner*,  assumed  the 
form  of  an  apology  for  the  partisan  and  his  career.  He  needs 
none,  and  can  await  without  fear  that  verdict  of  history  which 
the  late  President  of  the  United  States  justly  declared  "could 
not  be  avoided."  In  the  pages  which  chronicle  the  great  strug 
gle  of  1862,  1863,  and  1864,  Colonel  Mosby  will  appear  in  his 
true  character  as  the  bold  partisan,  the  daring  leader  of  cavalry, 
the  untiring,  never-resting  adversary  of  the  Federal  forces  invad 
ing  Virginia.  The  burly-ruffian  view  of  him  will  not  bear 
inspection  ;  and  if  there  are  any  who  cannot  erase  from  their 
minds  this  fanciful  figure  of  a  cold,  coarse,  heartless  adventurer, 
I  would  beg  them  to  dwell  for  a  moment  upon  a  picture  which 
the  Kichmond  correspondent  of  a  Northern  journal  drew  the 
other  day. 

On  a  summer  morning  a  solitary  man  was  seen  beside  the 
grave  of  Stuart,  in  Hollywood  Cemetery,  near  Richmond.  The 
dew  was  on  the  grass,  the  birds  sang  overhead,  the  green  hillock 
at  the  man's  feet  was  all  that  remained  of  the  daring  leader  of 
the  Southern  cavalry,  who,  after  all  his  toils,  his  battles,  and  the 
shocks  of  desperate  encounters,  had  come  here  to  rest  in  peace. 


126  WEARING    OF  THE   GRAY. 

Beside  this  unmarked  grave  the  solitary  mourner  remained  long, 
pondering  and  remembering.  Finally  he  plucked  a  wild  flower, 
dropped  it  upon  the  grave,  and  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  left  the 
place. 

This  lonely  mourner  at  the  grave  of  Stuart  was  Mosby. 


VIII. 
PELHAM  "  THE  GALLANT." 


On  the  morning  of  the  17th  of  March,  1863,  Averill's  Federal 
Cavalry,  three  thousand  in  the  saddle,  crossed  the  Kappahan- 
riock  at  Kelly's  Ford,  and  attacked  about  eight  hundred  of 
General  Fitz  Lee's  command,  who  faced,  without  shrinking, 
these  great  odds,  and  fought  them  stubbornly  at  every  point 
throughout  the  entire  day. 

When  the  sun  set  on  that  tranquil  evening — sinking  slowly 
down  behind  the  quiet  forest,  unstirred  by  the  least  breath  of 
wind — the  long  and  desperate  struggle  was  decided.  The  enemy 
was  retiring,  "  badly  hurt,"  and  General  Stuart  added  in  his 
dispatch  :  "  We  are  after  him.  His  dead  men  and  horses  strew 
the  road." 

No  harder  battle  was  fought  during  the  entire  war.  The 
Southern  forces  won  the  day  by  hard  and  desperate  fighting,  in 
charge  after  charge :  but  lost  in  the  struggle  some  of  the  most 
valiant  hearts  that  ever  beat.  Puller,  Harris,,  and  Pelham  were 
among  the  number — the  "gallant  Pelham"  of  the  battle  of 
Fredericksburg.  He  was  in  the  performance  of  his  duty  as  Chief 
of  Artillery,  and  was  riding  towards  his  General,  when  a  regi 
ment  of  cavalry  swept  by  him  in  a  charge.  He  was  waving  his 
hat  aloft,  and  cheering  them  on,  when  a  fragment  of  shell  struck 
him  on  the  head,  mortally  wounding  him.  He  lingered  until 
after  midnight  on  the  morning  of  the  18th,  when  General 
Stuart  telegraphed  to  Mr.  Curry,  of  Alabama : 

"The  noble,  the  chivalric,  the  gallant  Pelham  is  no  more. 


128  WEARING    OF  THE    GRAY. 

He  was  killed  in  action  yesterday.  His  remains  will  be  sent  to 
you  to-day.  How  much  he  was  beloved,  appreciated,  and  ad 
mired,  let  the  tears  of  agony  we  have  shed,  and  the  gloom  of 
mourning  throughout  my  command,  bear  witness.  His  loss  is 
irreparable." 

The  body  of  the  young  officer  was  sent  to  Kichmond,  laid  in 
state  in  the  Capitol  of  Virginia,  and  we  are  told  that  "some 
tender  hand  deposited  an  evergreen  wreath,  intertwined  with 
white  flowers,  upon  the  case  that  contained  all  that  was  mortal 
of  the  fallen  hero."  His  family  received  the  soldier's  remains ; 
they  were  taken  to  his  Southern  home;  Virginia,  the  field  of 
his  fame,  had  surrendered  him  to  Alabama,  the  land  of  his  birth. 

"  The  Major-General  commanding,"  wrote  Stuart,  in  a  general 
order,  "  approaches  with  reluctance  the  painful  duty  of  announc 
ing  to  the  Division  its  irreparable  loss  in  the  death  of  Major 
JOHN"  PELHAM,  commanding  the  Horse  Artillery. 

"He  fell  mortally  wounded  in  the  battle  of  Kellysville, 
March  17th,  with  the  battle-cry  on  his  lips,  and  the  light  of 
victory  beaming  from  his  eye. 

"  To  you,  his  comrades,  it  is  needless  to  dwell  upon  what  you 
have  so  often  witnessed — his  prowess  in  action,  already  pro 
verbial.  You  well  know  how,  though  young  in  years,  a  mere 
stripling  in  appearance,  remarkable  for  his  genuine  modesty  of 
deportment,  he  yet  disclosed  on  the  battle-field  the  conduct  of 
a  veteran,  and  displayed  in  his  handsome  person  the  most  im 
perturbable  coolness  in  danger. 

"  His  eye  had  glanced  over  every  battle-field  of  this  army, 
from  the  first  Manassas  to  the  moment  of  his  death,  and  he  was, 
with  a  single  exception,  a  brilliant  actor  in  all. 

"  The  memory  of  '  THE  GALLANT  PELHAM,'  his  many  virtues, 
his  noble  nature  and  purity  of  character,  is  enshrined  as  a  sacred 
legacy  in  the  hearts  of  all  who  knew  him. 

u  His  record  has  been  bright  and  spotless ;  his  career  brilliant 
and  successful. 

"  He  fell — the  noblest  of  sacrifices — on  the  altar  of  his  coun 
try,  to  whose  glorious  service  he  had  dedicated  his  life  from  the 
beginning  of  the  war." 


PELHAM  "THE  GALLANT."  129 

Thus  passed  away  a  noble,  lofty  soul ;  thus  ended  a  career, 
brief,  it  is  true,  but  among  the  most  arduous,  glorious,  and  splen 
did  of  the  war.  Young,  but  immortal — a  boy  in  years,  but  heir 
to  undying  fame — he  was  called  away  from  the  scene  of  his 
triumphs  and  glory  to  a  brighter  world,  where  neither  wars  nor 
rumours  of  wars  can  come,  and  wounds  and  pain  and  suffering 
are  unknown ;  where 

"  Malice  domestic,  foreign  levy,  nothing 
Can  touch  him  further  I  " 

II. 

To  him  who  writes  these  lines,  the  death  of  this  noble  youth 
has  been  inexpressibly  saddening.  It  has  cast  a  shadow  on  the 
very  sunlight ;  and  the  world  seems,  somehow,  colder  and  more 
dreary  since  he  went  away.  It  was  but  yesterday  almost  that 
he  was  in  his  tent,  and  I  looked  into  his  frank,  brave  eyes,  and 
heard  his  kind,  honest  voice.*  There  is  the  seat  he  occupied  as 
we  conversed — the  bed  where  he  so  often  slept  with  me,  pro 
longing  his  gay  talk  deep  into  the  night.  There  are  the  books 
he  read — the  papers  which  he  wrote ;  at  this  table  he  once  sat, 
and  here  where  my  own  hand  rests  has  rested  the  hand  of  the 
Dead !  Every  object  thus  recalls  him,  even  as  he  lived  an$ 
moved  beside  me  but  a  few  days  ago.  His  very  words  seem  still 
echoing  in  the  air,  and  the  dreary  camp  is  full  of  his  presence ! 

Nor  am  I  the  only  one  whose  heart  has  bled  for  the  young  sol 
dier.  All  who  knew  him  loved  him  for  his  gay,  sweet  temper, 
as  they  admired  him  for  his  unshrinking  courage.  I  have  seen 
no  face  over  which  a  sort  of  shadow  did  not  pass  at  the  announce 
ment,  "  Pelham  is  dead!  " 

"  Pelham  is  dead !  "  It  is  only  another  mode  of  saying  "  honour 
is  dead  !  courage  is  dead  !  modesty,  kindness,  courtesy,  the  inborn 
spirit  of  the  true  and  perfect  gentleman,  the  nerve  of  the  soldier, 
the  gaiety  of  the  good  companion,  the  kindly  heart,  and  the  reso 
lute  soul — all  dead,  and  never  more  to  revisit  us  in  his  person !  " 

These  words  are  not  dictated  by  a  blind  partiality  or  mere 

*  Written  at  "  Camp  No. —  camp,"  in  the  spring  of  1 863. 
9 


130  WEARING  OF   THE   GRAY. 

personal  regard  for  the  brave  youth  who  has  fallen  in  front  of 
the  foe,  in  defence  of  the  sacred  liberties  of  the  South.  Of  his 
unshrinking  nerve  and  coolness  in  the  hour  of  peril,  the  name 
of  "  the  gallant  Pelham,"  given  him  by  General  Lee  at  Frede- 
ricksburg,  will  bear  witness.  Of  his  noble,  truthful  nature,  those 
who  knew  him  best  will  speak. 

He  had  made  for  himself  a  celebrated  name,  and  he  was  only 
twenty-four  when  he  died  ! 

A  son  of  the  great  State  of  Alabama,  and  descended  from  an 
old  and  honourable  family  there,  he  had  the  courage  of  his  race 
and  clime.  He  chose  arms  as  his  profession,  and  entered  West 
Point,  where  he  graduated  just  as  the  war  commenced  ;  lost  no 
time  in  offering  his  services  to  the  South,  and  received  the 
appointment  of  First-Lieutenant  in  the  Confederate  States  army. 
Proceeding  to  Harper's  Ferry,  when  General  Johnston  was  in 
command  there,  he  was  assigned  to  duty  as  drill-officer  of  artil 
lery,  and  in  the  battle  of  Manassas  commanded  a  battery,  which 
he  fought  with  that  daring  courage  which  afterwards  rendered 
him  so  famous.  He  speedily  attracted  the  attention  of  the  higher 
Generals  of  the  army,  and  General  J.  E.  B.  Stuart  entrusted  him 
with  the  organization  of  the  battalion  of  Horse  Artillery  which 
he  subsequently  commanded  in  nearly  every  battle  of  the  war 
upon  Virginia  soil.  Here  I  knew  him  first. 

From  the  moment  when  he  took  command  of  that  famous 
corps,  a  new  system  of  artillery  fighting  seemed  to  be  inaugu 
rated.  The  rapidity,  the  rush,  the  impetus  of  the  cavalry,  were 
grafted  on  its  more  deliberate  brother.  Not  once,  but  repeat 
edly,  has  the  Horse  Artillery  of  Pelham  given  chase  at.  full 
speed  to  a  %ing  enemy  ;  and,  far  in  advance  of  all  infantry 
support,  unlimbered  and  hurled  its  thunders  on  the  foe.  It  was 
ever  at  the  point  where  the  line  was  weakest;  and  however 
headlong  the  charge  of  the  cavalry,  the  whirling  guns  were 
beside  it,  all  ready  for  their  part.  "  Trot,  march  !  "  had  yielded 
to  "  gallop ! "  with  the  battalion ;  it  was  rushed  into  position, 
and  put  in  action  with  a  rush ;  and  in  and  out  among  the  guns 
where  the  bolts  fell  thickest  was  the  brave  young  artillerist, 
cool  and  self-possessed,  but,  as  one  of  his  officers  said  the  other 


PELHAM  "THE  GALLANT."  131 

day,  "as  gay  as  a  school-boy  at  a  frolic."  He  loved  his  profes 
sion  for  its  own  sake ;  and  often  spoke  to  the  officers  above  alluded 
to  of  the  "jolly  good  fights  "  he  would  have  in  the  present  cam 
paign  ;  but  I  anticipate  my  subject. 

Once  associated  with  the  command  of  Stuart,  he  secured  the 
warm  regard  and  unlimited  confidence  of  that  General,  who 
employed  his  services  upon  every  occasion.  Thenceforth  their 
fortunes  seemed  united,  like  their  hearts ;  and  the  young  man 
became  known  as  one  of  the  most  desperate  fighters  of  the  whole 
army.  He  was  rightly  regarded  by  Jackson  and  others  as  pos 
sessed  of  a  very  extraordinary  genius  for  artillery ;  and  when 
any  movement  of  unusual  importance  was  designed,  Pelham  was 
assigned  to  the  artillery  to  be  employed. 

His  career  was  a  brief  one,  but  how  glorious !  How  crowded 
with  great  events  that  are  history  now  !  Let  us  glance  at  it: 

When  the  Southern  forces  fell  back  from  Manassas  in  1861, 
his  batteries  had  their  part  in  covering  the  movement,  and 
guarding  the  fords  of  the  Eappahannock.  During  the  campaign 
of  the  Peninsula,  his  Blakely  was  as  a  sentinel  on  post  near  the 
enemy  ;  and  at  the  battle  of  Williamsburg  his  courage  and  skill 
transformed  raw  militia  into  veterans.  In  the  seven  days'  bat 
tles  around  Richmond  he  won  fadeless  laurels.  With  one 
Napoleon,  he  engaged  three  heavy  batteries,  and  fought  them 
with  a  pertinacity  and  unfaltering  nerve  which  made  the  calm 
face  of  Jackson  glow ;  and  the  pressure  of  that  heroic  hand, 
warm  and  eloquent  of  unspoken  admiration.  Soon  afterwards, 
at  the  "White  House,"  he  engaged  a  gunboat,  and  driving  it 
away,  after  a  brief  but  hot  encounter,  proved  how  fanciful  were 
the  terrors  of  these  "  monsters." 

His  greatest  achievements  were  to  come,  however;  and  he 
hastened  to  record  them  on  the  enduring  tablets  of  history. 
From  the  moment  when  his  artillery  advanced  from  the  Rappa- 
hannock,  to  the  time  when  it  returned  thither,  to  the  day  of 
Fredericksburg,  the  path  of  the  young  leader  was  deluged  with 
the  blood  of  battle.  At  Manassas  he  rushed  his  guns  into  the 
very  columns  of  the  enemy  almost ;  fighting  their  sharpshooters 
with  canister,  amid  a  hurricane  of  balls.  At  Sharpsburg  he  had 


132  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

command  of  nearly  all  the  artillery  on  our  left,  and  directed  it 
with  the  hand  of  a  master.  When  the  army  crossed  back  into 
Virginia,  he  was  posted  at  Shepherdstown,  and  guarded  the  ford 
with  an  obstinate  valour,  which  spoke  in  the  regular  and  unceas 
ing  reverberation  of  his  deep-mouthed  Napoleons,  as  they  roared 
on,  hour  after  hour,  driving  back  the  enemy. 

Of  the  days  which  succeeded  that  exciting  period,  many  per 
sons  will  long  hold  the  memory.  It  was  in  an  honest  old  coun 
try-house,  whither  the  tide  of  war  bore  him  for  a  time,  that  the 
noble  nature  of  the  young  soldier  shone  forth  in  all  its  charms. 
There,  in  the  old  hall  on  the  banks  of  the  Opequon,  surrounded 
by  warm  hearts  who  reminded  him  perhaps  of  his  own  beloved 
ones  in  far  Alabama ;  there,  in  the  tranquil  days  of  autumn,  in 
that  beautiful  country,  he  seemed  to  pass  some  of  his  happiest 
hours.  All  were  charmed  with  his  kind  temper  and  his  sunny 
disposition ;  with  his  refinement,  his  courtesy,  his  high  breeding, 
and  simplicity.  Modest  to  a  fault  almost — blushing  like  a  girl 
at  times,  and  wholly  unassuming  in  his  entire  deportment — he 
became  a  favourite  with  all  around  him,  and  secured  that  regard 
of  good  men  and  women  which  is  the  proof  of  high  traits  and 
fine  instincts  in  its  possessor.  In  the  beautiful  autumn  forests, 
by  the  stream  with  its  great  sycamores,  and  under  the  tall  oaks 
of  the  lawn,  he  thus  wandered  for  a  time — an  exile  from  his  own 
land  of  Alabama,  but  loved,  admired,  and  cherished  by  warm 
hearts  in  this.  When  he  left  the  haunts  of  "  The  Bower,"  I 
think  he  regretted  it.  But  work  called  him. 

The  fiat  had  gone  forth  from  Washington  that  another  U0n 
to  Richmond  "  should  be  attempted  ;  and  where  the  vultures  of 
war  hovered,  there  was  the  post  of  duty  for  the  Horse  Artillery. 
The  cavalry  crossed  the  Blue  Ridge,  and  met  the  advancing 
column  at  Aldie — and  Pelham  was  again  in  his  element. 
Thenceforward,  until  the  banks  of  the  Rappahannock  were 
reached  by  the  cavalry,  the  batteries  of  the  Horse  Artillery  dis 
puted  every  step  of  ground.  The  direction  of  the  artillery  was 
left,  with  unhesitating  confidence,  by  Stuart  to  the  young  officer ; 
and  those  who  witnessed,  during  that  arduous  movement,  the 
masterly  handling  of  his  guns,  can  tell  how  this  confidence  was 


PELHAM  "THE  GALLANT."  138 

justified.  It  was  the  eye  of  the  great  soldier,  the  hand  of  the 
born  artillerist,  which  was  evident  in  his  work  during  those  days 
of  struggle.  He  fell  back  neither  too  soon  nor  too  late,  and 
only  limbered  up  his  guns  to  unlimber  again  in  the  first  posi 
tion  which  he  reached.  Thus  fighting  every  inch  of  the  way 
from  Aldie,  round  by  Paris,  and  Markharn's,  he  reached  the 
Rappahannock,  and  posted  his  artillery  at  the  fords,  where  he 
stood  and  bade  the  enemy  defiance.  That  page  in  the  history 
of  the  war  is  scarcely  known ;  but  those  who  were  present  know 
the  obstinacy  of  the  contests,  and  the  nerve  and  skill  which 
were  displayed  by  the  young  officer. 

That  may  be  unknown,  but  the  work  done  by  Pelham  on  the 
great  day  of  Fredericksburg  is  a  part  of  history  now.  All  know 
how  stubbornly  he  stood  on  that  day — what  laurels  encircled 
his  young  brow  when  night  at  last  came.  This  was  the  climax 
of  his  fame — the  event  with  which  his  name  will  be  inseparably 
connected.  With  one  Napoleon  gun,  he  opened  the  battle  on 
the  right,  and  instantly  drew  upon  himself  the  fire,  at  close 
range,  of  three  or  four  batteries  in  front,  and  a  heavy  enfilading 
fire  from  thirty-pound  Parrots  across  the  river.  But  this  moved 
him  little.  That  Napoleon  gun  was  the  same  which  he  had 
used  at  the  battle  of  Cold  Harbour — it  was  taken  from  the  enemy 
at  Seven  Pines — and,  in  the  hands  of  the  young  officer,  it  had 
won  a  fame  which  must  not  be  tarnished  by  defeat !  Its  grim 
voice  must  roar,  however  great  the  odds ;  its  reverberating  defi 
ance  must  roll  over  the  plain,  until  the  bronze  war-dog  was 
silenced.  So  it  roared  on  steadily  with  Pelham  beside  it,  blow 
ing  up  caissons,  and  continuing  to  tear  the  enemy's  ranks.  Gene 
ral  Lee  was  watching  it  from  the  hill  above,  and  exclaimed, 
with  eyes  filled  with  admiration,  "  It  is  glorious  to  see  such  cou 
rage  in  one  so  young !  "  It  was  glorious  indeed  to  see  that  one 
gun,  placed  in  an  important  position,  hold  its  ground  with  a 
firmness  so  unflinching.  Not  until  his  last  round  of  ammuni 
tion  was  shot  away  did  Pelham  retire ;  and  then  only  after  a 
peremptory  order  sent  to  him.  He  afterwards  took  command  of 
the  entire  artillery  on  the  right,  and  fought  it  until  night  with  a 
skill  and  courage  which  were  admirable.  He  advanced  his  guns 


134  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

• 

steadily,  and  at  nightfall  was  thundering  on  the  flank  of  the 
retreating  enemy,  who  no  longer  replied.  No  answering  roar 
came  back  from  those  batteries  he  had  fought  with  his  Napo 
leon  so  long  ;  he  had  triumphed.  That  triumph  was  complete, 
and  placed  for  ever  upon  record  when  the  great  Commander-in- 
Chief,  whom  he  loved  and  admired  so  ardently,  gave  him  the 
name  in  his  report  of  "  the  gallant  Pelham." 

Supreme  tribute  to  his  courage — immortalizing  him  in  history  I 
To  be  the  sole  name  mentioned  beneath  the  rank  of  Major-General 
in  all  that  host  of  heroes — and  mentioned  as  "the  gallant  Pelham !" 

Thenceforward  there  was  little  for  him  to  desire.  He  had 
never  cared  for  rank,  only  longed  for  glory  ;  and  now  his  name 
was  deathless.  It  is  true  that  he  sometimes  said,  with  modest 
and  noble  pride,  that  he  thought  it  somewhat  hard  to  be  con 
sidered  too  young  for  promotion,  when  they  gave  him  great  corrl- 
mands — as  at  Sharpsburg  and  Fredericksburg — and  called  on 
him  when  the  hardest  work  was  to  be  done.  But  he  never 
desired  a  mere  title  he  had  not  won,  and  did  his  soldier's  duty 
thoroughly,  trusting  to  time.  So  noble  and  important,  however, 
had  been  his  recent  services,  that  promotion  was  a  matter  of 
course.  The  President  said,  "I  do  not  need  to  see  any  papers 
about  Major  Pelham,"  and  had  appointed  him  a  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  ;  and  it  only  awaited  the  formal  confirmation  of  the 
Senate,  when  he  fell  on  the  Bappahannock.  His  fall  was  a  pub 
lic  calamity  to  the  nation,  but  none  to  him.  It  was  fit  that  such 
a  spirit  should  lay  down  his  great  work  before  the  hard  life  of 
the  world  had  dimmed  the  polish  of  the  good  knight's  spotless 
shield.  He  wanted  no  promotion  at  the  hands  of  men.  He  had 
won,  if  not  worn,  the  highest  honours  of  the  great  soldier ;  and 
having  finished  his  task,  the  gentle  spirit  took  its  flight,  pro 
moted  by  the  tender  hand  of  Death  to  other  honours  in  a 
brighter  world. 

III. 

In  this  hasty  tribute  to  one  whom  I  knew  well,  and  loved 
much,  it  is  hard  to  avoid  the  appearance  of  exaggeration.  The 
character  of  this  young  soldier  was  so  eminently  noble — his  soul 


PELHAM  "THE  GALLANT."  135 

so  brave,  so  true,  so  free  from  any  taint  of  what  was  mean  or 
sordid  or  little — that  the  sober  words  of  truth  may  be  doubted 
by  some,  who  will  only  regard  them  as  that  tender  and  pious 
flattery  which  friendship  accords  to  the  dead. 

This  sentiment  will  be  experienced  only  by  strangers,  how 
ever.  Those  who  knew  him  will  recognise  the  true  portrait. 
His  modesty,  his  gentleness — his  bearing  almost  childlike  in  its 
simplicity — made  his  society  charming.  This  modesty  of  deport 
ment  was  observed  by  every  one,  and  strangers  often  referred  to 
the  singular  phenomenon  in  a  youth  bred  in  the  self-sufficient 
atmosphere  of  West  Point,  and  whose  name  was  already  so 
famous.  He  never  spoke  of  himself;  you  might  live  with  him 
for  a  month,  and  never  know  that  he  had  been  in  a  single  action. 
He  never  seemed  to  think  that  he  deserved  any  applause  for  his 
splendid  courage,  and  was  silent  upon  all  subjects  connected 
with  his  own  actions.  In  his  purse  was  found  folded  away, 
after  his  death,  a  slip  from  a  United  States  officer,  once  his 
friend,  which  contained  the  words,  u  After  long  silence,  I  write. 
God  bless  you,  dear  Pelham ;  I  am  proud  of  your  success." 
But  he  had  never  even  alluded  to  the  paper.  Distinguished 
unmistakably  by  the  affection  and  admiration  of  his  immediate 
General — rendered  famous  by  the  praise  of  the  Commander-in- 
Chief  at  Fredericksburg — he  never  exhibited  the  least  trait  of 
self-love,  remaining  still  what  he  had  always  been,  as  modest, 
unassuming,  and  simple  as  a  child. 

This  and  other  winning  traits  come  to  my  mind  as  I  write, 
and  I  could  speak  at  length  of  all  those  charming  endowments 
which  endeared  him  to  every  one  around  him.  I  could  dwell  on 
his  nice  sense  of  honour — his  devotion  to  his  family — on  that 
prisca  fides  in  his  feeling  and  opinions  which  made  him  a  great, 
true  type  of  the  Southern  gentleman,  attracting  the  attention  and 
respect  of  the  most  eminent  personages  of  his  time.  But  with 
the  recollection  of  those  eminent  social  characteristics  comes  the 
memory  always  of  his  long,  hard  work  in  the  service.  I  have 
often  seen  him  engaged  in  that  work,  which  gave  him  his  great 
fame ;  and  this  phase  of  the  young  officer's  character  obtrudes 
itself,  rounding  and  completing  the  outline. 


186  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

With  what  obstinate  and  unyielding  courage  he  fought! — 
with  a  daring  how  splendid,  how  rich  in  suggestion  of  the  antique 
days  !  He  entered  upon  a  battle  with  the  coolness  and  resolu 
tion  of  a  great  leader  trained  in  a  thousand  combats,  and  fought 
his  guns  with  the  fury  and  elan  of  Murat  at  the  head  of  his 
horsemen.  No  trait  of  the  ground,  no  movement  of  the  enemy, 
ever  escaped  his  eagle  eye.  With  an  inborn  genius  for  war 
which  West  Point  had  merely  developed,  and  directed  in  its 
proper  channels,  he  had  that  rapid  comprehension — intuition 
almost — which  counts  for  so  much  in  a  leader.  Where  the  con 
test  was  hottest  and  the  pressure  heaviest,  there  was  Pelham  with 
his  guns ;  and  the  broken  lines  of  infantry,  or  cavalry  giving 
ground  before  irresistible  numbers,  heard  their  deep  voices  roaring 
and  saw  the  ranks  of  the  enemy  scattered.  Often  he  waited  for 
no  order,  took  the  whole  responsibility,  and  opened  his  batteries 
where  he  saw  that  they  were  most  needed  by  the  emergencies  of 
the  moment.  But  what  he  did  was  always  the  very  best  that 
could  be  done.  He  struck  at  the  right  moment,  and  his  arm 
was  heavy.  To  the  cavalry,  the  roar  of  Pelham's  Napolegns  was 
a  welcome  sound.  When  the  deep-mouthed  thunder  of  those 
guns  was  heard,  the  faintest  took  heart,  and  the  contest  assumed 
a  new  phase  to  all — for  that  sound  had  proved  on  many  a  field 
the  harbinger  of  victory.* 

Beside  those  guns  was  the  chosen  post  of  the  young  artillerist. 
The  gaudium  certaminis  seemed  to  fill  his  being  at  such  moments ; 
and,  however  numerous  the  batteries  which  he  threw  into  action, 
he  never  remained  behind  "  in  command  of  the  whole  field/' 
He  told  me  that  he  considered  this  his  duty,  and  I  know  that  he 
never  shrank — as  he  might  have  done — from  performing  it. 


*  The  rumour  has  obtained  a  wide  circulation  that  Major  Pelham  lost  ono  or 
more  of  his  guns  when  the  cavalry  fell  back  from  the  mountains.  The  report  is 
entirely  without  foundation.  He  never  lost  a  gun  there  or  anywhere  else.  Though 
he  fought  his  pieces  with  such  obstinacy  that  the  enemy  more  than  once  charged 
within  ten  yards  cf  the  muzzles  of  the  guns,  he  always  drove  them  back,  and 
brought  his  artillery  off  safely.  He  asked  my  friendly  offices  in  making  public 
this  statement.  I  neglected  it,  but  now  put  the  facts  on  record,  in  justice  to  his 
memory. 


PELHAM  "THE  GALLANT."  137 

He  was  ever  by  the  guns  which  were  under  the  hottest  fire ; 
and,  when  the  enemy  shifted  their  fire  to  other  portions  of  the 
field,  he  proceeded  thither,  riding  at  full  speed,  and  directed  the 
fresh  batteries  in  person.  His  men  will  remember  how  cheer 
ing  and  inspiring  was  his  presence  with  them — how  his  coolness 
steadied  them  in  the  most  exciting  moments — and  his  brave, 
cheerful  voice  was  the  herald  of  success.  "He  was  the  bravest 
human  being  I  ever  saw  in  my  life,"  said  one  of  his  officers 
whom  I  conversed  with  recently ;  and  all  who  have  seen  him 
under  fire  will  bear  similar  testimony.  His  coolness  had  some 
thing  heroic  in  it.  It  never  deserted  him,  or  was  affected  by 
those  chances  of  battle  which  excite  the  bravest.  He  saw  guns 
shattered  and  dismounted,  or  men  torn  to  pieces,  without  exhi 
biting  any  signs  of  emotion.  His  nature  seemed  strung  and 
every  muscle  braced  to  a  pitch  which  made  him  rock ;  and  the 
ghastliest  spectacle  of  blood  and  death  left  his  soul  unmoved — 
his  stern  will  unbent. 

That  unbending  will  had  been  tested  often,  and  never  had 
failed  him  yet.  At  Manassas,  Williamsburg,  Cold  Harbour, 
Groveton,  Oxhill,  Sharpsburg,  Shepherdstown,  Kearneysville, 
Aldie,  Union,  Upperville,  Markham,  Barbee's,  Hazel  Kiver,  and 
Fredericksburg — at  these  and  many  other  places  he  fought  his 
horse  artillery,  and  handled  it  with  heroic  coolness.  One  day 
when  I  led  him  to  speak  of  his  career,  he  counted  up  something 
like  a  hundred  actions  which  he  had  been  in — and  in  every  one 
he  had  borne  a  prominent  part.^  Talk  with  the  associates  of  the 
young  leader  in  those  hard-fought  battles,  and  they  will  tell  you 
a  hundred  instances  of  his  dauntless  courage.  At  Manassas  he 
took  position  in  a  place  so  dangerous  that  an  officer,  who  had 
followed  him  up  to  that  moment,  rode  away  with  the  declaration 
that  "  if  Pelham  was  fool  enough  to  stay  there,  lie  was  not" 
But  General  Jackson  thanked  him,  as  he  thanked  him  at  Cold 
Harbour,  when  the  brave  young  soldier  came  back  covered  with 
dust  from  fighting  his  Napoleon — the  light  of  victory  in  his 
eyes.  At  Markham,  while  he  was  fighting  the  enemy  in  front, 
they  made  a  circuit  and  charged  him  in  the  rear ;  but  he  turned 
his  guns  about,  and  fought  them  as  befo're,  with  his  "  Napoleon 


138  '    WEAKING   OF   THE   GRAY. 

detachment"  singing  the  loud,  triumphant  Marseillaise,  as  that 
same  Napoleon  gun,  captured  at  Seven  Pines,  and  used  at  Frede- 
ricksburg,  drove  them  back.     All  that  whole  great  movement 
was  a  marvel  of  hard  fighting,  however,  and  Pelham  was  the 
hero  of  the  stout,  close  struggle.     Any  other  chief  of  artillery 
might  have  sent  his  men  in  at  Fredericksburg  and  elsewhere, 
leaving  the  direction  of  the  guns  to  such  officers  as  the  brave 
Captain  Henry  ;  but  this  did  not  suit  the  young  chieftain.     He 
must  go  himself  with  the  one  gun  sent  forward,  and  beside  that 
piece  he  remained  until  it  was  ordered  back — directing  his  men 
to  lie  down,  but  sitting  his  own  horse,  and  intent  solely  upon 
the  movements  and  designs  of  the  enemy,  wholly  careless  of  the 
"  fire  of  hell "  hurled  against  him.     It  was  glorious,  indeed,  as 
General  Lee  declared,  to  see  such  heroism  in  the  boyish  artil 
lerist  ;  and  well  might  General  Jackson  speak  of  him  in  terms 
of  "  exaggerated  compliment,"  and  ask  General  Stuart  "  if  he 
had  another  Pelham,  to  give  him  to  him"     On  that  great  day, 
the  young  son  of  Alabama  covered  himself  with  glory — but  no 
one  who  knew  him  felt  any  surprise  at  it.     Those  who  had  seen 
him  at  work  upon  other  fields  knew  the  dauntless  resolution  of 
his  brave  young  soul — the  tough  and  stern  fibre  of  his  courage. 
That  hard  fibre  could  bear  any  strain  upon  it  and  remain  un 
moved. 

In  all  those  hard  combats,  no  ball  or  shell  ever  struck  him. 
The  glance  of  the  blue  eyes  seemed  to  conquer  Danger,  and 
render  Death  powerless.  He  seemed  to  bear  a  charmed  life,  and 
to  pass  arnid  showers  of  bullets  without  peril  or  fear  of  the  result. 
It  was  riot  from  the  enemy's  artillery  alone  that  he  ran  the 
greatest  danger  in  battle.  He  was  never  content  to  remain  at 
his  guns  if  they  were  silent.  His  mind  was  full  of  the  contest, 
pondering  its  chances,  as  though  he  had  command  of  the  whole 
army  himself;  he  never  rested  in  his  exertions  to  penetrate  the 
designs  of  the  enemy.  Upon  such  occasions  he  was  the  mark  at 
which  the  sharpshooters  directed  their  most  dangerous  fire  ;  but 
they  never  struck  him.  The  balls  passed  to  the  right  or  left,  or 
overhead — his  hour  had  not  yet  come. 

It  came  at  last  in  that  hard  fight  upon  the  Eappahannock,  and 


PELHAM  "THE  GALLANT."  139 

the  famous  youth  lies  low  at  last.  He  fell  "  with  the  battle-cry 
on  his  lips,  and  the  light  of  victory  beaming  from  his  eye."  In 
the  words  of  the  general  order  which  his  beloved  commander 
issued,  "  His  record  bad  been  bright  and  spotless ;  his  career 
brilliant  and  successful ;  he  fell  the  noblest  of  sacrifices  on  the 
altar  of  his  country." 

The  theme  grows  beneath  the  pen  which  at  first  attempted  a 
slight  sketch  only,  and  my  paper  is  growing  too  long.  A  few 
words  more  will  complete  the  outline  of  this  eminent  young 
soldier. 

The  name  of  Pelham  will  remain  connected  forWer  with  great 
events  ;  but  it  will  live  perennial,  too,  in  many  hearts  who  mourn 
bitterly  his  untimely  end.  All  who  knew  him  loved  him ;  I 
believe  that  no  human  being  disliked  him.  His  character  was 
so  frank,  and  open,  and  beautiful — his  bearing  so  modest  and 
unassuming — that  he  conciliated  all  hearts,  and  made  every  one 
who  met  him  his  friend.  His  passions  were  strong ;  and  when  he 
was  aroused  fire  darted  from  the  flint,  but  this  was  seldom 
During  all  my  acquaintance  with  him — and  that  acquaintance 
dated  back  to  the  autumn  of  1861 — I  never  had  a  word  addressed 
to  me  that  was  unfriendly,  and  never  saw  him  angry  but  twice. 
"  Poor  boy  ! "  said  Stuart  one  day,  "  he  was  angry  with  me  once" 
and  the  speaker  had  known  him  longer  than  I  had.  He  had  rare 
self-control,  and  I  think  that  this  sprang  in  a  great  measure  from 
a  religious  sense  of  duty.  He  would  sit  and  read  his  Bible  with 
close  attention  ;  and,  though  he  never  made  a  profession  of  his 
religious  convictions,  it  is  certain  that  these  convictions  shaped  bis 
conduct.  The  thought  of  death  never  seemed  to  cross  his  mind, 
however  ;  and  he  once  told  me  that  he  had  never  felt  as  if  he  was 
destined  to  be  killed  in  the  war.  Alas  !  the  brief  proverb  is  the 
comment :  "  Man  proposes,  God  disposes." 

Thus,  modest,  brave,  loving,  and  beloved — the  famous  soldier, 
the  charming  companion — he  passed  away  from  the  friends  who 
cherished  him,  leaving  a  void  which  none  other  can  till.  Alabama 
lent  him  to  Virginia  for  a  time  ;  but,  alas !  the  pale  face  smiles 
no  more  as  he  returns  to  her.  As  many  mourn  his  early  death 
here,  where  his  glory  was  won,  as  in  the  southern  land  from  which 


140  WEARING    OF  THE   GRAY. 

he  came.  To  these — the  wide  circle  who  loved  him  for  his  great 
qualities,  and  his  kind,  good  heart — his  loss  is  irreparable,  as  it  is 
to  the  whole  South.  The  "  breed  of  noble  minds  "  like  his  is  not 
numerous,  and  when  such  forms  disappear  the  gap  is  hard  to  rill 
— the  struggle  more  arduous  than  before.  But  the  memory  of 
this  great  young  soldier  still  remains  with  us,  his  name  is 
immortal  in  history  as  in  many  hearts  which  throbbed  at  his 
death ! 

Poor  colourless  phrases  I — faded  flowers  I  try  to  strew  on  the 
grave  of  this  noble  soul !  But  the  loss  is  too  recent,  and  the 
wound  has  not  yet  healed.  The  heart  still  bleeds  as  the  pen  traces 
the  dull  words  on  the  page. 

"  Mourn  for  him !  Let  him  be  regarded 
As  the  most  noble  corse  that  ever  herald 
Did  follow  to  Ms  urn  I  " 

« 

Strange  words ! — it  may  be  said — for  a  boy  little  more  than 
twenty  !  Exaggerated  estimate  of  his  loss  ! 

No,  the  words  are  not  strange  ;  the  loss  is  not  exaggerated — 
for  the  name  of  this  youth  was  John  Pelham 


IX. 
FARLEY  "THE  SCOUT." 


i. 

In  the  old  "  Confederate  Army  of  the  Potomac,"  and  then  in 
the  "  Army  of  Northern  Virginia,"  there  was  a  man  so  notable 
for  daring,  skill,  and  efficiency  as  a  partisan,  that  all  who  valued 
those  great  qualities  honoured  him  as  their  chiefest  exemplar. 
He  was  known  among  the  soldiers  as  "  Farley,  the  Scout,"  but 
that  term  did  not  express  him  fully.  He  was  not  only  a  scout, 
but  a  partisan  leader;  an  officer  of  excellent  judgment  and  mag 
nificent  dash  ;  a  soldier  born,  who  took  to  the  work  with  all  the 
skill  and  readiness  of  one  who  engages  in  that  occupation  for 
which,  by  Providence,  he  is  especially  designed. 

He  served  from  the  beginning  of  the  war  to  the  hard  battle 
of  Fleetwood,  in  Culpeper,  fought  on  the  9th  of  June,  1863. 
There  he  fell,  his  leg  shattered  by  a  fragment  of  shell,  «nd  the 
brave  true  soul  went  to  rejoin  its  Maker. 

One  of  the  chiefest  spites  of  fate  is  that  oblivion  which  sub 
merges  the  greatest  names  and  events.  The  design  of  this  brief 
paper  is  to  put  upon  record  some  particulars  of  the  career  of  a 
brave  soldier — so  that,  in  that  "  aftertime "  which  sums  up  the 
work  and  glory  of  the  men  of  this  epoch,  his  name  shall  not  be 
lost  to  memory. 

Farley  was  born  at  Laurens  village,  South  Carolina,  on  the 
19th  of  December,  1835.  He  was  descended,  in  a  direct  line, 
from  the  "  Douglas  "  of  Scotland,  and  his  father,  who  was  born 
on  the  Eoanoke  river,  in  Charlotte  county,  Virginia,  was  one  of 
the  most  accomplished  gentlemen  of  his  time.  He  emigrated  to 


14:2  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY.. 

South  Carolina  at  the  age  of  twenty-one,  married,  and  com 
menced  there  the  practice  of  law.  To  the  son,  the  issue  of  this 
marriage,  he  gave  the  name  of  William  Downs  Farley,  after  his 
father-in-law,  Colonel  "William  F.  Downs,  a  distinguished  law 
yer,  member  of  the  Legislature,  and  an  officer  of  the  war  of  1812. 
The  father  of  this  Colonel  Downs  was  Major  Jonathan  Downs, 
a  patriot  of  '76 ;  his  mother,  a  daughter  of  Captain  Louis  Saxon, 
also  distinguished  in  our  first  great  struggle ;  thus  our  young 
partisan  of  1863  had  fighting  blood  in  his  veins,  and,  in  plung 
ing  into  the  contest,  only  followed  the  traditions  of  his  race. 

From  earliest  childhood  he  betrayed  the  instincts  of  the  man 
of  genius.  Those  who  recollect  him  then,  declare  that  his 
nature  seemed  composed  of  two  mingled  elements — the  one 
gentle  and  reflective,  the  other  ardent  and  enthusiastic.  Passion 
ately  fond  of  Shakspeare  and  the  elder  poets,  he  loved  to  wan 
der  away  into  the  woods,  and,  stretched  beneath  some  great  oak, 
pass  hour  after  hour  in  dreamy  musing;  but  if,  at  such  times, 
he  heard  the  cry  of  the  hounds  and  the  shouts  of  his  compa 
nions,  his  dreams  were  dissipated,  and  throwing  aside  his  volume, 
he  would  join  in  the  chase  with  headlong  ardour. 

At  the  age  of  seventeen,  he  made,  in  company  with  a  friend, 
the  tour  of  the  Northern  States,  and  then  was  sent  to  the  Uni 
versity  of  Virginia,  where  his  education  was  completed.  The 
summer  vacation  gave  him  an  opportunity  of  making  a  pedes 
trian  excursion  through  Virginia ;  and  thus,  having  enlarged 
his  mind  by  study  and  travel  through  the  Xorth  and  a  portion 
of  the  South,  he  returned  to  South  Carolina.  Here  he  occupied 
himself  in  rendering  assistance  to  his  father,  who  had  become 
an  invalid,  and,  we  believe,  commenced  the  practice  of  the  law. 
His  love  of  roving,  however,  did  not  desert  him,  and  his  father's 
business  required  repeated  journeys  into  the  interior  of  the 
State.  The  scenery  of  the  mountains  proved  a  deep  and  lasting 
source  of  joy  to  him,  and,  standing  on  the  summits  of  the  great 
ranges,  he  has  been  seen  to  remain  in  such  rapt  contemplation 
of  the  landscape  that  he  could  scarcely  be  aroused  and  brought 
back  to  the  real  world.  These  expeditions  undoubtedly  fostered 
in  the  youthful  South  Carolinian  that  ardent  love  of  everything 


FARLEY  "THE  SCOUT."  143 

connected  with  his  native  State  which,  with  his  craving  for  wild 
adventure,  constituted  the  controlling  elements  of  his  being. 

"  He  had  now  attained,"  a  friend  writes,  "the  pride  and  matu 
rity  of  manhood.  There  were  few  handsomer  or  more  prepos 
sessing  men.  As  a  young  man  said,  after  the  battle  of  Culpeper, 
in  speaking  of  the  loss  of  Farley  and  Hampton,  "  two  of  the 
handsomest  men  in  our  State  have  fallen."  His  figure  was  of 
medium  height,  elegantly  formed,  graceful,  well  knit,  and,  from 
habitual  exercise  in  the  gymnasium,  possessing  a  remarkable 
degree  of  strength  and  activity.  His  hair  was  dark  brown ;  his 
eyebrows  and  lashes  were  so  dark,  and  so  shaded  the  dark  grey 
eyes  beneath  as  to  give  them  the  appearance  of  blackness.  His 
manner  was  generally  quiet,  polished,  arid  elegant;  but  let  him 
be  aroused  by  some  topic  which  awoke  his  enthusiasm  (seces 
sion  and  the  Yankees,  for  instance),  and  he  suddenly  stood  trans 
formed  before  you  ;  and  in  the  flashing  eye  and  changing  cheek 
you  beheld  the  dashing  "  Hero  of  the  Potomac !  " 

"His  moral  character,"  says  the  .same  authority,  "was  pure 
and  noble — l  Sans  peur  et  sans  reproche?  It  is  a  well  known  fact 
among  his  friends  and  associates  that  ardent  spirits  of  any  kind 
had  never  passed  his  lips  until  the  first  battle  of  Manassas,  when, 
being  sick  with  measles,  he  fought  until  almost  fainting,  and 
accepted  a  draught  from  the  canteen  of  a  friend.  This  was  the 
first  and  last  drink  he  ever  took. 

"  His  father,  whose  last  hours  he  watched  with  untiring  care 
and  attention,  died  just  before  the  opening  of  the  war.  Captain 
Farley  had,  from  an  early  age,  taken  great  interest  in  the  politi 
cal  affairs  of  the  country ;  he  was  a  warm  advocate  of  State 
Eights,  and  now  entered  into  the  spirit  of  secession  with  eager 
ness  and  enthusiasm.  He  was  very  instrumental  in  bringing 
about  a  unanimity  of  opinion  on  this  subject  in  his  own  district. 

"He  made  frequent  visits  to  Charleston,  with  the  hope  of 
being  in  the  scene  of  action  should  an  attack  be  made  on  the 
city ;  and  was  greatly  chagrined  that  the  battle  of  Sumter  was 
fought  during  a  short  absence,  and  he  only  reached  the  city  on 
the  day  following.  He  was  the  first  man  in  his  district  to  fly 
to  the  defence  of  "Virginia,  whose  sacred  soil  he  loved  with  a 


144  WEARING    OF  THE    GRAY. 

devotion  only  inferior  to  that  which  he  bore  his  own  State. 
He  joined  Gregg's  regiment,  in  which  he  served  three  months, 
and  on  the  disbanding  of  which  he  became  an  independent 
fighter." 

From  this  time  commences  that  career  of  personal  adventure 
and  romantic  exploits  which  made  him  so  famous.  Shoulder 
ing  his  rifle — now  riding,  then  on  foot — he  proceeded  to  the  far 
outposts  nearest  to  the  enemy,  and  was  indefatigable  in  penetrat 
ing  their  lines,  harassing  detached  parties,  and  gaining  informa 
tion  for  Generals  Bonham  and  Beauregard.  Falling  back  with 
the  army  from  Fairfax,  he  fought — though  so  sick  that  he  could 
scarcely  stand — in  the  first  battle  of  Manassas,  and  then  entered 
permanently  upon  the  life  of  the  scout,  speedily  attracting  to 
himself  the  unconcealed  admiration  of  the  whole  army.  To 
note  the  outlines  even  of  his  performances  at  that  time,  would 
require  thrice  the  space  we  have  at  our  disposal.  He  seemed 
omnipresent  on  every  portion  of  the  lines ;  and  if  any  daring 
deed  was  undertaken- — any  expedition  which  was  to  puzzle, 
harass,  or  surprise  the  enemy — Farley  was  sure  to  be  there. 
With  three  men  he  took  and  held  Upton's  Hill,  directly  in  face 
of  the  enemy ;  on  numberless  occasions  he  surprised  the  ene 
my's  pickets;  and  with  three  others,  waylaid  and  attacked  a 
column  of  several  hundred  cavalry  led  by  Colonel  (afterwards 
General)  Bayard,  whose  horse  he  killed,  slightly  wounding  the 
rider.  >  This  audacious  attack  was  made  some  ten  or  fifteen  miles 
beyond  the  Southern  lines,  and  nothing  but  a  love  of  the  most 
desperate  adventure  could  have  led  to  it.  Farley  ambushed  the 
enemy,  concealing  his  little  band  of  three  men  in  some  pines ; 
and  although  they  might  easily  have  remained  perdus  until  the 
column  passed,  and  so  escaped,  Farley  determined  to  attack,  and 
did  attack — firing  first  upon  Bayard,  and  nearly  stampeding  his 
whole  regiment.  After  a  desperate  encounter  he  and  his  little 
party,  were  all  captured  or  killed,  and  Farley  was  taken  to  the 
Old  Capitol  in  Washington,  where  he  remained  some  time  in 
captivity.  General  Bayard  mentioned  this  affair  afterwards  in 
an  interview  with  General  Stuart,  and  spoke  in  warm  terms  of 
the  courage  which  led  Farley  to  undertake  so  desperate  an 


FARLEY 

adventure.  Eeleased  from  prison,  Farley  hastened  back  to  his 
old  "stamping  ground"  around  Centreville,  reaching  that  place: 
in  the  winter  of  1861.  He  speedily  received  the  most  flattering 
proposals  from  some  eminent  officers  who  were  going  to  the 
South-west;  but  chancing  to  meet  General  Stuart,  that  officer 
took  violent  possession  of  him,  and  thenceforth  kept  him  near 
his  person  as  volunteer  aide-de-camp.  With  this  arrangement 
Farley  soon  became  greatly  pleased.  He  had  already  seen  Stu 
art  at  work,  and  that  love  of  adventure  and  contempt  of  danger 
— the  coolness,  self-possession,  and  mastery  of  the  situation,  how 
ever  perilous — which  characterized  both,  proved  a  lasting  bond 
of  union  between  them. 

II.     ' 

Thenceforth,  Farley  was  satisfied.  His  position  was  one 
which  suited  his  peculiar  views  and  habits  admirably.  Untram 
melled  by  special  duties — never  tied  down  to  the  routine  of  com 
mand,  or  the  commonplace  round  of  camp  duty — free  as  the 
wind  to  go  or  come  whenever  and  wheresoever  he  pleased,  all 
the  instincts  of  his  peculiar  organization  had  "  ample  room  and 
verge  enough"  for  their  development ;  and  his  splendid  native 
traits  had  the  fullest  swing  and  opportunity  of  display.  It  was 
in  vain  that  General  Stuart,  estimating  at  their  full  value  his 
capacity  for  command,  repeatedly  offered  him  position.  He  did 
not  want  any  commission,  he  said ;  his  place  suited  him  perfectly, 
and  he  believed  he  could  do  more  service  to  the  cause  as  scout 
and  partisan  than  as  a  regular  line-officer.  He  had  not  entered 
the  army,  he  often  declared  to  me,  for  place  or  position ;  promo 
tion  was  not  his  object;  to  do  as  much  injury  as  possible  to  the 
enemy  was  his  sole,  controlling  sentiment,  and  he  was  satisfied 
to  be  where  he  was. 

His  devotion  to  the  cause  was  indeed  profound  and  almost 
passionate.  He  never  rested  in  his*exertions,  and  seemed  to  feel 
as  if  the  success  of  the  struggle  depended  entirely  on  his  own 
exertions.  A  friend  once  said  to  him:  "If,  as  in  ancient  .Roman 
days,  an  immense  gulf  should  miraculously  open,  and  an  oracle 
should  declare  that  the  honour  and  peace  of  the  country  could 

10 


146  WEARING    OF    THE    GRAY. 

only  be  maintained  by  one  of  her  youths  throwing  himself  into 
it,  do  you  believe  you  could  do  it  ?  "  He  looked  ^serious,  and 
answered  earnestly  and  with  emphasis,  "  I  believe  I  could" 

Thus  permanently  attached  as  volunteer  aide  to  General  Stuart, 
Farley  thereafter  took  part  in  all  the  movements  of  the  cavalry. 
He  was  with  them  in  that  hot  falling  back  from  Centreville,  in 
March,  1862 ;  in  the  combats  of  the  Peninsula,  where,  at  Wil- 
liamsburg,  he  led  a  regiment  of  infantry  in  the  assault ;  in  the 
battles  of  Cold  Harbour  and  Malvern  Hill,  at  the  second  Ma- 
nassas,  Sharpsburg,  Fredericksburg,  and  the  scores  of  minor 
engagements  which  marked  almost  every  day  upon  the  outposts. 
He  missed  the  battle  of  Chancellorsville,  greatly  to  his  regret, 
having  gone  home,  after  an  absence  of  two  years,  to  witness  the 
bombardment  of  Charleston  and  see  his  family. 

It  was  soon  after  his  return  in  May  that  the  fatal  moment 
came  which  deprived  the  service  of  this  eminent  partisan.  At 
the  desperately  contested  battle  of  Fleetwood,  in  Culpeper  county, 
on  the  9th  of  June,  1863,  he  was  sent  by  General  Stuart  to  carry 
a  message  to  Colonel  Butler,  of  the  2d  South  Carolina  cavalry. 
He  had  just  delivered  his  message,  and  was  sitting  upon  his 
horse  by  the  Colonel,  when  a  shell,  which  also  wounded  Butler, 
struck  him  upon  the  right  knee  and  tore  his  leg  in  two  at  the 
joint.  He  fell  from  the  saddle  and  was  borne  to  an  ambulance, 
where  surgical  assistance  was  promptly  rendered.  His  wound 
was,  however,  mortal,  and  all  saw  that  he  was  dying. 

At  his  own  request  the  torn  and  bleeding  member,  with  the 
cavalry  boot  still  on,  was  put  in  the  ambulance,  and  he  was 
borne  from  the  field.  His  strength  slowly  declined,  but  his 
consciousness  remained.  Meeting  one  whom  he  knew,  he  called 
him  by  name,  and  murmured,  "  I  am  almost  gone."  He  lingered 
but  a  few  hours,  and  at  twilight  of  that  day  the  writer  of  these 
lines  looked  on  him  in  his  shroud — the  pale,  cold  features  calm 
and  tranquil  in  their  final  sleep. 

He  was  clad  in  his  new  uniform  coat,  and  looked  every  inch 
a  soldier  taking  his  last  rest.  He  had  delivered  this  coat  to  a 
lady  of  Culpeper,  and  said,  "  If  anything  befalls  me,  wrap  me  in 
Oiis  and  send  me  to  my  mother.1'1 


147 

Such  was  the  end  of  the  famous  partisan.  His  death  left  a 
void  which  it  seemed  impossible  to  fill.  His  extraordinary 
career  had  become  fully  known,  and  a  writer  some  months  be 
fore  his  death  gave  utterance  to  the  sentiment  of  every  one  when 
he  wrote:  "  The  story — the  plain,  unvarnished  story — of  his 
career  since  the-  war  began  is  like  a  tale  of  old  romance.  Such 
abnegation  of  self!  Office  and  money  both  spurned,  because 
they  seemed  to  stand  in  the  way  of  his  duty.  What  thrilling 
incidents!  What  strength  and  courage!  and  what  wonderful 
escapes !  No  wonder,  as  he  rides  by,  we  so  often  hear  it  ex 
claimed,  '  There  goes  the  famous  scout,  Farley  !  The  army  has 
no  braver  man,  no  purer  patriot ! ' : 

We  put  on  record  here  the  following  passage  from  the  letter 
of  a  lady  in  Culpeper  to  his  mother,  giving,  as  it  does,  an  out 
line  of  the  man,  and  bearing  testimony  in  its  simple  words, 
warm  from  a  woman's  heart,  to  the  affection  which  was  felt  for  him : 

"  MY  DEAR  MADAM — I  want  you  to  know  how  we  in  Virginia 
admired,  appreciated,  arid  loved  your  son.  Had  he  been  her  own, 
Virginia  could  not  have  loved  him  more;  certainly  she  could 
not  owe  him  more — so  long  and  so  bravely  had  he  fought  upon 
her  soil.  He  was  particularly  well  known  in  this  unfortunate 
part  of  the  State,  which  has  been,  sometimes  for  months,  overrun 
by  our  foes.  Many  families  will  miss  his  corning,  so  daring  was 
he,  and  so  much  depended  on  by  General  Stuart.  He  scouted  a 
great  deal  alone  in  the  enemy's  lines,  and  was  often  the  bearer 
of  letters  and  messages  from  loved  ones  long  unheard  from. 
Often,  when  we  have  been  cut  off  from  all  communication  from 
our  own  people,  he  has  been  the  first  to  come  as  the  enemy  were 
leaving,  often  galloping  up  when  they  were  scarcely  out  of 
sight — always  inspiring  us  with  fresh  hope  and  courage,  his 
cheerful  presence  itself  seeming  to  us  a  prophecy  of  good, 

"On  Tuesday  night,  just  one  week  before  the  battle  in  which 
he  fell,  he  came  here,  about  one  o'clock  at  night.  We  were  sur 
prised  and  alarmed  to  see  him,  as  a  large  party  of  the  enemy 
had  passed  our  very  doors  only  a  few  hours  before.  When  my 
aunt  opened  the  door  she  found  him  sitting  on  the  steps,  his 


148  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

"head  resting  on  bis  "hands,  as  if  tired  and  sleepy.  We  asked 
him  if  he  did  not  know  the  Yankees  were  near.  '  Oh,  yes,'  he 
replied ;  '  they  have  been  chasing  me,  and  compelled  me  to 
lengthen  my  ride  considerably.'  He  came  in,  but  said,  '  I  can 
not  rest  with  you  long,  as  I  must  be  riding  all  night.'  We  gave 
him  some  bread,  honey  and  milk,  which  we  knew  he  loved.  lie 
said  he  had  been  fasting  since  morning.  '  Ah,'  sa'id  he,  '  this  is 
just  what  I  want.'  He  buckled  on  his  pistols  again  before  sit 
ting  down,  and  said  laughingly  to  me,  'Lock  the  doors  and  listen 
well,  for  I'll  never  surrender.'  We  stood  in  the  porch  when  he 
left,  and  watched  him  walk  off  briskly  (he  had  come  on  foot, 
having  left  his  horse  in  the  woods).  We  hated  to  see  him  go 
out  in  the  dark  and  rainy  night-time  ;  but  lie  went  cheerfully,  so 
willing  was  he  to  encounter  danger,  to  endure  hardships,  *  to* 
spend  and  be  spent '  in  his  country's  service." 

To  "  spend  and  be  spent "  in  the  cause  of  the  South  was  truly 
this  brave  spirit's  chief  delight.  These  are  not  idle  words,  but 
the  truth,  in  relation  to  him.  The -writer  of  this  page  was  long 
and  intimately  associated  with  him  ;  and  so  far  from  presenting 
an  exaggerated  picture  of  him,  the  incidents  and  extracts  above 
given  do  him  only  partial  justice.  I  never  saw  a  braver  man, 
nor  one  more  modest.  He  had  a  peculiar  refinement  of  feeling 
and  bearing  which  stamped  him  a  gentleman  to  the  utmost  fibre 
of  his  being.  This  delicacy  of  temperament  was  most  notable  ; 
and  it  would  be  difficult  to  describe  the  remarkable  union  of  the 
most  daring  courage  and  the  sweetest  simplicity  of  demeanour  in 
the  young  partisan.  Greater  simplicity  and  modesty  were  never 
seen  in  human  bearing ;  and  so  endearing  were  these  traits  of 
his  character,  that  ladies  and  children — those  infallible  critics — 
were  uniformly  charmed  with  him.  One  of  the  latter  wrote : 

kCHis  death  has  been  a  great  sorrow  to  us.  He  was  with  us 
frequently  the  week  before  the  battle,  and  won  our  entire  hearts 
by  his  many  noble  qualities,  and  his  superiority  to  all  around 
him.  He  talked  much  about  his  family ;  he  loved  them  with 
entire  devotion.  He  read  to  us  some  of  your  poems,  and  re 
peated  one  of  his  own.  I  close  my  eyes,  and  memory  brings 


FARLEY    "THEJ3COUT."  149 

back  to  me  the  thrilling  tones  of  that  dear  voice,  which,  though 
heard  no  more  on  earth,  has  added  to  the  melody  of  heaven." 

His  manner  was  the  perfection  of  good-breeding,  and  you  saw 
that  the  famous  partisan,  whose  exploits  were  the  theme  of  every 
tongue,  had  not  been  raised,  like  others  of  his  class,  amid  rude 
associates  and  scenes,  but  with  gently  nurtured  women,  and  sur 
rounded  by  the  sweet  amenities  of  home.  His  voice  was  a 
peculiar  one — very  low  and  distinct  in  its. tones ;  and  these  sub 
dued  inflections  often  produced  upon  the  listener  the  impression 
that  it  was  a  habit  acquired  in  scouting,  when  to  speak  above  a 
murmur  is  dangerous.  The  low,  clear  words  were  habitually 
accompanied  by  a  bright  smile,  and  the  young  man  was  a  favour 
ite  with  all — so  cordial  was  his  bearing,  so  unassuming  his  whole 
demeanour.  His  personal  appearance  has  alreadv  been  described, 
but  it  may  interest  some  of  his  friends  in  the  far  South  to  know 
how  he  appeared  when  aat  work."  He  dressed  uniformly  in  a 
plain  suit  of  gray,  wearing  a  jacket,  and  over  this  a  dark  blue 
overcoat,  with  a  belt,  holding  his  pistol,  tightly  drawn  around 
his  waist.  In  his  hat  he  wore  the  black  cavalry  feather  ;  and  his 
boots  were  of  that  handsome  pattern  which  is  worn  by  Federal 
officers,  with  patent-leather  tops  and  ornamental  thread-work. 
None  of  his  equipments  cost  him  or  the  Confederate  States  a 
single  dollar.  They  were  all  captured — either  from  sutlers' 
wagons  or  the  enemies  he  had  slain  with  his  own  hand.  I  never 
knew  him  to  purchase  any  portion  of  his  own  or  his  horse's 
accoutrements — saddle,  bridle,  halter,  sabre,  pistols,  belt,  carbine, 
spurs,  were  all  captured  from  the  enemy.  His  horses  were  in 
the  same  category,  and  he  rarely  kept  the  saine  riding-horse 
long.  They  were  with  great  regularity  shot  under  him  ;  and  he 
mounted  the  first  he  found  running  riderless,  or  from  which  his 
pistol  hurled  one  of  the  enemy. 

III. 

I  have  spoken  of  his  modest,  almost  shy  demeanour.  All 
this  disappeared  in  action.  His  coolness  remained  unaffected, 
but  he  evidently  felt  himself  in  his  proper  element,  and  entitled 


150  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

to  direct  others.  At  such  moments  his  suggestions  were  boldly 
made,  and  not  seldom  resulted  in  the  rout  of  the  enemy.  The 
cavalry  once  in  motion,  the  quiet,  modest  gentleman  was  meta 
morphosed  into  the  fiery  partisan.  He  would  lead  a  charge 
with  the  reckless  daring  of  Murat,  and  cheer  on  the  men,  with 
contagious  ardour,  amid  the  most  furious  storm  of  balls. 

His  disregard  of  personal  exposure  was  supreme,  and  the  idea 
that  he  was  surrounded  by  peril  never  occurred  to  him.  He 
has  repeatedly  told  the  present  writer,  with  that  simplicity  and 
sincerity  which  produce  conviction,  that  in  action  he  was  wholly 
unconscious  of  the  balls  and  shells  flying  and  bursting  around 
him — that  his  interest  in  the  general  result  was  so  strong  as  to 
cause  him  to  lose  sight  of  them.  Those  who  knew  him  did  r;ot 
venture  to  doubt  the  assertion. 

He  delighted  in  the  wild  charge,  the  clash  of  meeting  squa 
drons,  and  the  roar  of  artillery.  AJ1  these  martial  sights  and 
sounds  ministered  to  the  passionate  ardour  of  that  temperament 
which  made  him  most  at  home  where  balls  were  whistling, 
and  the  air  oppressive  with  the  odour  of  battle.  But,  I  think, 
he  even  preferred  the  life  of  the  scout — the  long  and  noise 
less  hunt  for  his  foe — the  exercise  of  those  faculties,  by 
means  of  which  an  enemy  is  surprised  and  destroyed — the  sin 
gle  combat  with  sabre  and  pistol,  often  far  off  in  the  silence  of 
the  woods,  where  a  dead  body  half  concealed  amid  the  grass  is 
all  that  remains  to  tell  the  tale  of  some  hand-to-hand  encounter. 
The  number  of  such  contests  through  which  Farley  had  passed 
would  seem  incredible  to  those  who  did  not  know  him,  and  thus 
comprehend  how  the  naked  truth  of  his  career  beggared  ro 
mance.  He  rarely  spoke  of  these  affairs,  and  never,  unless  to  cer 
tain  persons,  and  under  peculiar  circumstances.  He  had  a  great 
horror  of  appearing  to  boast  of  his  own  exploits,  and  so  greatly 
feared  securing  the  reputation  of  colouring  his  adventures  that  he 
seldom  alluded  to  them,  even.  Fortunately  for  his  memory, 
many  persons  witnessed  his  most  desperate  encounters,  and  still 
live  to  testify  to  the  reckless  daring  of  the  young  partisan. 
With  these  his  eventful  career  will  long  remain  the  subject  of 
fireside  tales ;  and  in  the  coming  days  of  peace,  when  years 


151 

have  silvered  the  hair  of  his  contemporaries,  old  men  will  tell 
their  grand-children  of  his  strange  adventures  and  those  noble 
traits  which  made  his  name  so  famous. 

To  the  world  at  large,  he  will  always  thus  appear — as  the 
daring  partisan  and  adventurous  scout — as  one  who  risked  his 
life  in  a  hundred  hot  encounters,  and  in  all  those  bloody  scenes 
never  quailed  or  shrank  before  a  foe,  however  powerful  or  dan 
gerous.  But  to  those  who  lived  with  him — heard  his  low, 
friendly  voice,  and  saw  every  day  his  ^bright  kindly  smile — he 
appears  in  a  different  character.  To  such  the  loss  we  have  sus 
tained  is  deeper — it  seems  irreparable.  It  was  the  good  fortune 
of  the  writer  of  these  lines  to  thus  see  the  brave  young  man — 
to  be  beside  him  in  the  field ;  and,  at  home,  to  share  his  confi 
dence  and  friendship.  Erding  through  the  summer  forests,  or 
wandering  on  across  the  fields  of  broom-straw,  near  Fredericks- 
burg — better  still,  beside  the  good  log-fire  of  winter — we  talked 
of  a  thousand  things,  and  I  saw  what  a  wealth  of  kindness,  chi 
valry,  and  honour  he  possessed — how  beautifully  the  elements 
were  mixed  in  his  character.  Brave  and  true — simple  and 
kind — he  passed  away ;  and  among  those  eminent  natures 
which  the  writer  encountered  in  the  late  struggle,  few  are  re 
membered  with  such  admiration  and  affection  as  this  noble  son 
of  Carolina. 

The  best  conclusion  of  this  brief  and  inadequate  sketch  will 
be  the  mention  made  of  the  brave  partisan  in  General  Stuart's 
report  of  the  battle  of  Fleetwood.  It  is  as  follows  : 

"  Captain  W.  D.  Farley,  of  South  Carolina,  a  volunteer  aide 
on  my  staff,  was  mortally  wounded  by  the  same  shell  which 
wounded  Colonel  Butler,  and  displayed  even  in  death,  the  same 
loftiness  of  bearing  and  fortitude  which  characterized  him 
through  life.  He  had  served,  without  emolument,  long,  faith 
fully,  and  always  with  distinction.  No  nobler  champion  has 
fallen.  May  his  spirit  abide  with  us." 


X. 
HARDEMAN  STUART, 

THE  YOUNG  CAPTAIN   OF  THE   SIGNAL   COKPS. 


I. 

I  NEVER  knew  a  braver  or  lovelier  spirit  than  Hardeman  Stuart's. 
When  the  wave  of  war  rolled  over  his  young  head  and  swept 
him  away,  one  of  the  truest  gentlemen  of  the  South  disappeared. 

The  old  Greek  dogma  that  the  favourites  of  the  gods  die 
early,  had  in  him  another  illustration.  His  figure  moved  before 
the  eyes  of  those  who  loved  him  for  a  moment  only ;  his  brave 
gay  voice  was  heard  ;  his  bright  smile  shone — then  he  flitted 
from  the  great  arena  like  some  youthful  actor,  who  has  played 
his  allotted  part,  and  is  seen  no  more. 

It  was  not  necessary  to  know  him  long  to  love  him.  He  was 
with  his  Virginia  comrades  for  a  brief  space  only,  but  he  soon 
won  every  heart.  His  kindness,  his  courage,  his  high-bred 
courtesy  and  delightful  gaiety,  made  him  the  most  charming  of 
companions.  Every  one  loved  him.  Indeed,  to  know  him  was 
to  love  him  ;  and  since  his  death  even  strangers  have  spoken  of 
him  in  terms  of  the  warmest  affection,  so  deeply  had  he  impress 
ed  all  who  saw  him. 

He  was  scarce  twenty-one  when  he  died,  and  in  the  flush  of 
youth  and  joy  and  hope.  He  was  a  native  of  the  great  State  of 
Mississippi,  where  hearts  are  warm  and  tempers  impulsive.  The 
bright  sun  of  the  farthest  South  seemed  to  have  fired  his  blood ; 
:ind  on  the  battle-field  he  fought  with  the  gallantry  and  nerve,  the 


HARDEMAN  STUART.  153 

vigour  and  clan  of  one  of  Napoleon's  young  heroes  of  the  grand 
armee. 

His  laughing  face  looked  out  on  the  world  with  an  exquisite 
frankness;  the  lips  were  mobile,  joyous,  and  expressive;  the 
large,  honest  eyes  met  your  own  with  smiles  in  their  blue 
depths,  which  spoke  the  real  character  of  the  youth.  I  was  first 
attracted  toward  the  youthful  stranger  by  the  dash  and  nerve  of 
his  behaviour  on  the  field.  It  was  in  the  battle  of  Cold  Har 
bour,  where  he  served  as  a  volunteer  upon  the  staff  of  General 
Stuart.  He  was  the  model  of  an  aide-de-camp  that  day,  and  was 
specially  mentioned  in  the  general's  official  report  for  the  valu 
able  services  which  he  rendered.  I  saw  him  frequently  on  this 
occasion,  and  was  struck  with  his  great  gallantry.  Nothing 
could  exceed  the  gay  ardour  of  his  bearing,  the  joyous  abandon 
with  which  he  threw  himself  into  the  contest,  his  ardent  and 
complete  performance  of  all  duties  assigned  to  him.  He  courted 
danger  with  a  boyish  gaiety  which  shone  in  his  dancing  eyes 
and  on  his  smiling  lips,  and  seemed  to  covet  opportunities  of 
exposing  himself  to  the  heaviest  fire,  in  the  thickest  portion  of 
the  fight.  No  bullet  touched  him,  however;  the  shot  and  shell, 
bursting  and  plunging  everywhere,  seemed  determined  to  avoid 
him  and  do  him  no  harm.  He  came  out  of  the  battle  gay,  laugh 
ing,  and  unharmed  as  he  had  entered  it.  At  the  "  White  House," 
afterward,  he  went  with  Pelham  in  that  boyish  frolic,  the  chase 
of  the  gunboats,  and  then  we  rode  back  "  all  a  summer's  day  " 
to  the  banks  of  the  Chickahominy,  conversing.  The  delightful 
gaiety  of  the  boy  made  the  long,  hot  miles  of  sandy  highway 
slip  away  unseen ;  and  here  I  first  obtained  an  insight  into  the 
character  of  the  noble  young  Mississippian,  before  a  stranger, 
but  to  be  to  me  from  that  moment  a  valued  friend. 

His  gallantry  during  the  battle  had  attracted  attention,  and  he 
now  secured,  through  his  cousin,  General  Stuart,  the  commission 
of  captain  in  the  signal  corps.  He  performed  the  duties  of  his 
rank  with  alacrity,  and  I  had  frequent  opportunities  of  seeing 
and  conversing  with  him.  As  I  have  said,  to  know  him  was  to 
love  him.  There  was  so  much  candour  and  sincerity  in  his  charac 
ter,  such  a  light-hearted  gaiety  and  sweetness  of  temper,  that  he 


154:  WEARING    OF  THE    GHAY. 

became  a  favourite  even  with  those  who  saw  with  difficulty  any 
merit  in  their  brother  men,  and  repelled  all  sentiments  of  liking 
for  their  fellow-creatures.  Even  the  surly  melted,  and  grew 
smiling  as  his  cheerful  voice  saluted  them,  and  I  think  the  sour 
est  of  curmudgeons  would  have  done  him  a  favour  without  being 
solicited.  His  voice  had  a  special  charrn  in  its  tones.  It  was  what 
the  French  call  caressante.  In  the  accent  and  intonation  of  every 
word  which  he  uttered  it  was  impossible  not  to  discern  the  good 
ness  of  his  heart.  Distress  had  never  yet  laid  its  heavy  hand  upon 
him,  and  he  seemed  as  free  from  all  knowledge  or  suspicion  of 
human  bitterness  or  meanness.  He  looked  into  the  face  of  the 
world  with  a  smile  full  of  friendly  regard,  and  the  hard,  cold  world 
relaxed  in  its  scowl,  and  smiled  back  kindly  in  response.  Sufe- 
picion  or  misanthropy  never  appeared  to  have  visited  him ;  and 
living,  as  it  were,  in  an  atmosphere  of  joy  and  hope  and  youth 
ful  gaiety,  he  made  all  around  him  gay,  and  had  the  whole  world 
for  his  friends. 

The  brief  season  of  respite  from  hostilities  which  followed  the 
battles  around  Richmond  soon  came  to  an  end.  General  Stuart 
broke  up  his  headquarters  in  the  old  grassy  yard  of  Hanover 
Court-house ;  his  bugle  sounded  to  horse ;  and  the  cavalry 
advanced  to  place  itself  on  the  right  of  the  army  about  to  give 
battle  to  Pope  on  the  Rapidan.  Here  Hardeman  Stuart  left  us, 

in  performance  of  his  duties  as  signal  officer and  I  never  saw 

him  again  but  for  a  single  moment.  That  meeting  was  on  the 
field  of  Manassas,  when  the  opposing  lines  were  about  to  grap 
ple ;  when  the  Southern  army,  hungry,  weary,  and  travel- worn, 
but  undaunted,  was  about  to  enter  upon  the  decisive  conflict  with 
its  old  adversary. 

Going  back  in  memory  to  that  time,  I  recall  with  melancholy 
interest  the  little  trifling  details  of  this  my  last  meeting  and  "  last 
greeting  "  with  Hardeman  Stuart.  I  was  riding,  about  noon,  to 
the  front  of  Longstreet's  line  in  search  of  General  Stuart.  Under 
a  tree,  immediately  in  rear  of  his  front  line,  General  Longstreet 
had  just  dismounted,  and  was  taking  off  a  brown  linen  overall, 
the  face  of  the  "old  war  horse"  composed,  good-natured,  but 
*  full  of  fight."  Learning  from  him  that  General  Stuart  was 


HARDEMAN   STUART.  155 


"just  on  the  right  of  his  line,"  I  rode  in  that  direction  along 
the  front  of  the  infantry  drawn  up  for  battle ;  the  men  kneeling 
on  the  left  knee ;  the  bayonets  bristling  above ;  finger  on  trig 
ger  ;  eyes  fixed  intently  on  the  crest  in  front  over  which  the 
advancing  enemy  \vere  about  to  appear. 

I  went  on,  and  in  crossing  a  fallow  of  considerable  extent, 
passed  one  of  those  small  wooden  houses  which  dot  the  region 
around  Manassas.  Often  as  I  beheld  such  spectacles,  this  melan 
choly  mansion  attracted  my  attention.  It  was  torn  and  dis 
mantled — the  huge  besom  of  war  seemed  to  have  swept  over  it, 
sparing  its  very  existence  only  from  a  sense  of  its  insignificance. 
In  the  broken-down  porch  were  some  frightened  young  women, 
and  crowds  of  soldiers  had  straggled  up  to  cool  their  parched 
lips  from  a  well  in  the  yard. 

There  were  swarms  of  these  crowding  around  the  nearly 
exhausted  well,  and  others  basked  in  the  sun  with  a  careless  air, 
which  indicated  natures  callous  to  the  coming  battle. 

All  this  was  taken  in  at  a  single  glance,  arid  I  was  galloping 
on,  when  suddenly  I  heard  a  voice  which  uttered  my  name. 

I  drew  up  and  turned  around.  As  I  did  so,  a  form  detached 
itself  from  the  rest,  came  running  toward  me  with  the  gay  exclama 
tion,  "  How  d'ye,  Captain  !  "  and  I  recognised  Hardeman  Stuart. 

But  what  a  change  !  He  had  always  been  the  neatest  person 
imaginable  in  his  dress  and  appearance.  His  brown  hair  had 
alwaj^s  been  carefully  parted  and  brushed,  his  boots  as  polished 
as  assiduous  rubbing  could  make  them,  and  his  new  unifornwcoat, 
with  its  gay  new  braid,  had  been  almost  too  nice  and  unwrinkled 
for  a  soldier. 

His  appearance  was  in  vivid  contrast  with  all  this.  He  was 
coatless,  unwashed,  his  boots  covered  with  dust;  and  his 
clothes  had  the  dingy  look  of  the  real  soldier,  who  is  so  often 
compelled  to  lie  upon  the  ground,  and  to  sleep  in  his  apparel. 
His  hair  was  unbrushed,  and  hung  disordered  around  his  face, 
and  the  gallant  young  captain  of  the  Signal  Corps  had  the 
appearance  of  a  sapper  and  miner. 

But  the  face  was  unchanged — that  was  the  same ;  gay, 
ardent,  joyous,  as  he  held  out  his  hand,  and  grasped  mine  with 


156  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

the  same  old  friendly  manner.  The  young  captain  was  the 
image  of  martial  energy  and  abandon.  The  bright  smile  broke 
forth  from  his  face  like  sunshine,  and  his  cheerful  voice  as  he 
greeted  me  was  full  of  the  old  kindly  music. 

He  was  evidently  overjoyed  to  see  a  familiar  face  among  all 
the  strange  ones  around  him,  where  the  eye  met  only  alien 
glances ;  to  press  a  friendly  hand  where  none  seemed  ready  to 
stretch  forth  and  greet  him. 

I  can  see  the  bright  face  now,  as  he  turned  it  up  and.  smiled ; 
hear  the  voice  with  its  tones  of  boyish  music  as  he  related  his 
misfortunes.  He  had  posted  himself  upon  a  ridge  with  his 
detachment,  and  from  his  station  was  signalling  the  movements 
of  the  enemy,  when  a  strong  force  surprised  him,  and  compelled 
him  to  retire  precipitate^. 

So  sudden  was  the  attack  that  he  was  very  nearly  captured. 
His  horse  had  been  tied  near ;  the  young  officer's  uniform  coat, 
which  he  had  taken  off,  from  tbe  heat  of  the  weather,  strapped 
behind  the  saddle — and  there  was  no  time  to  mount.  He 
escaped  in  the  woods  with  his  men  minus  horse  and  coat ;  but 
seemed  to  regard  the  whole  affair  as  an  excellent  jest,  and  only 
the  ordinary  "fortune  of  war." 

His  gay  laughter  followed  the  narrative,  and  I  remember  the 
ardent  light  of  the  blue  eyes  looking  out  from  the  tangled 
curls  of  the  brave  boy. 

"  Well,  Hardeman,  you  have  had  bad  luck,"  I  said,  "but  get 
another  horse  and  come  on." 

"I  intend  to  ;  tell  the  General  I'll  soon  be  there." 

"Yes." 

"  Good-bye." 

I  shook  the  brave  hand  and  rode  on.  I  was  never  more  to 
touch  it. 

I  have  scarcely  the  heart  to  continue  my  narrative  and  relate 
the  sequel.  Something  affects  the  throat  as  you  think  of  these 
dead  comrades  whose  hands  you  have  clasped,  whose  voices  you 
have  heard.  Some  of  the  sunshine  left  the  world  when  they  went, 
and  life  grows  dull. 

Poor  Hardeman  !    But  how  can  I  call  him  poor  ?    Rich,  rather, 


HARDEN  AN    STUART.  157 

beyond  the  wealth  of  kingdoms ;  for  he  died  in  the  bloom  of 
youth,  before  sorrow  touched  him,  righting  for  his  native  land. 

He  did  not  succeed  in  procuring  a  horse,  which  is  always  dif 
ficult  just  before  a  battle ;  and  his  brave  young  soul  revolted 
from  inaction  at  that  moment.  He  must  take  his  part  in  the 
action,  in  one  capacity  if  not  in  another ;  if  not  as  captain,  then 
as  private ;  and  this  resolution  was  speedily  carried  out.  Pro 
curing  a  musket  and  cartridge-box — old  friends  of  his  before  his 
promotion— he  sought  for  his  old  Mississippi  company,  entered 
its  ranks,  charged  with  them,  and  fell,  shot  through  the  heart. 

He  died  where  he  fell,  and  sleeps  in  the  weird  path  of  Manas- 
sas.  God  rest  his  soul ! 

Such  was  the  fate  of  Hardeman  Stuart — an  event  which  brought 
the  tears  to  many  eyes,  albeit  unused  to  the  melting  mood: — 
and  here  my  sketch  might  end.  I  will  add,  however,  a  some 
what  curious  incident  which  occurred  a  day  or  two  after  the 
battle. 

General  Stuart  followed  the  enemy  on  Sunday,  and  coming 
up  with  his  rear  at  the  bridge  over  Cub  Run,  had  a  slight  artil 
lery  engagement,  and  took  many  prisoners.  The  bridge  was 
destroyed  and  the  cavalry  turned  to  the  left,  and  making  a  cir 
cuit  came  into  the  Little  River  turnpike,  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Frying  Pan  road.  Proceeding  down  the  turnpike  in  the  direc 
tion  of  Germantown,  a  squadron  captured  a  company  of  the 
enemy's  cavalry  ;  and  advancing  further  to  a  small  tavern  on  the 
roadside,  took  prisoners  another  company  who  were  feeding  their 
horses  in  fancied  security  at  the  place. 

This  cavalry  formed  a  portion  of  that  which  had  operated  in 
the  battles  around  Groveton ;  and  in  possession  of  one  of  the 
men  was  found  Hardeman  Stuart's  coat,  captured  with  his  horse 
and  accoutrements  on  the  mountain. 

There  was  no  trouble  ,at  all  in  identifying  the  coat.  In  the 
breast  pocket  was  his  captain's  commission. 


XL 

JENNINGS  WISE, 

DF 

I. 

I  FOUND  in  an  old  portfolio,  the  other  day,  the  following  slip 
from  a  Norfolk  paper  of  the  year  1862  : 

"  The  Confederate  steamer  Arrow  arrived  here  this  morning, 
from  Currituck,  having  communicated  with  a  steamer  sent  down 
to  Eoanoke  Island  under  a  flag  of  truce.  She  brought  up  the 
bodies  of  Captain  O.  J.  Wise,  Lieutenant  William  Selden,  and 
Captain  Coles.  Captain  Wise  was  pierced  by  three  balls,  and 
Lieutenant  Selden  was  shot  through  the  head.  The  Yankees 
who  saw  Captain  Wise  during  the  fierce  and  unequal  contest, 
declare  that  he  displayed  a  gallantry  and  valour  never  surpassed. 
Alas,  that  he  has  fallen  in  a  contest  so  unequal !  But  who  has 
fallen  more  honourably,  more  nobly  ?  Young  Selden,  too,  died 
at  his  gun,  while  gallantly  fighting  the  enemy  that  had  gathered 
in  so  superior  numbers  upon  our  shores. 

"  Last  night,  when  the  steamer  arrived  at  Currituck,  General 
Wise  directed  that  the  coffin  containing  the  remains  of  his  son 
be  opened.  Then,  I  learn  from  those  who  were  present,  a  scene 
transpired  that  words  cannot  describe.  The  old  hero  bent  over 
the  body  of  his  son,  on  whose  pale  face  the  full  moon  threw  its 
light,  kissed  the  cold  brow  many  times,  and  exclaimed,  in  an 
agony  of  emotion  :  *  Oh,  my  brave  boy,  you  have  died  for  me, 
you  have  died  for  me.'  " 

What  an  epitaph ! 


JENNINGS   WISE.  159 

The  gray -haired  father,  forgetting  the  past  and  the  future,  los 
ing  sight,  for  the  moment,  of  the  war  and  all  other  things — 
bending  and  weeping  over  the  dead  body  of  the  son  who  "  had 
displayed  a  gallantry  and  valour  never  surpassed  " — giving  his 
heart's  blood  to  the  cause  he  loved — the  annals  of  tragedy  con 
tain  no  spectacle  more  touching  ! 

Of  the  remarkable  young  man  who  thus  poured  forth  his 
blood,  and  passed  away,  before  the  age  of  thirty,  in  defence  of 
his  native  soil,  I  propose  to  give  a  few  personal  recollections. 
It  is  hard  that  a  noble  soul  should  go  from  the  haunts  of  the 
living,  to  be  remembered  only  by  the  small  circle  of  loving 
friends  who  knew  and  appreciated  him.  And  though  I  shall 
not  attempt  anything  in  the  shape  of  a  memoir  of  young  Jen 
nings  Wise,  my  few  words  may  not  prove  uninteresting  to  those 
who  watched,  from  a*  distance,  his  meteoric  career,  and  perhaps 
admired  his  brave  spirit,  while  ignorance  of  his  real  character 
led  them  to  misunderstand  him. 

Jennings  Wise ! 

How  many  memories  that  name  recalls ! — memories  of  gen 
tleness  and  chivalry,  and  lofty  honour,  to  those  who  knew  him 
truly — of  fancied  arrogance  and  haughty  pride,  and  bloody  in 
stincts,  to  those  who  accepted  common  rumour  for  their  estimate 
of  him.  For  there  were  many  rumours  of  this  description 
afloat — and  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  there  was  some  excuse 
for  the  misconception.  He  had  little  of  the  spirit  of  conciliation 
if  he  believed  a  man  to  be  his  foe ;  managed  early  to  arouse  bit 
ter  enmities;  and  continued  to  defy  his  opponents  without 
deigning  to  explain  his  character  or  his  motives.  Before  he  was 
better  understood — when  the  mists  were  only  beginning  to  clear 
away,  and  show  his  virtues  of  devotion,  and  patriotism,  and 
kindness — death  called  him. 

Born  in  Virginia,  and  going  in  his  early  manhood  to  Europe, 
as  Secretary  of  Legation,  he  there  perfected  himself  in  riding, 
fencing,  and  all  manly  exercises ;  studying  political  science,  and 
training  himself,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  for  the  arena  upon 
which  he  was  to  enter  soon  after  his  return.  He  came  to  Vir 
ginia  at  a  time  when  the  atmosphere  was  stifling  with  the  heat 


160  WEARING    OP   THE   GRAY. 

of  contending  factions  in  politics,  and  becoming  the  chief  editor 
of  the  Eichmond  Enquirer,  plunged  into  the  struggle  with  all 
the  ardour  of  a  young  and  ambitious  soldier  who  essays  to  test 
the  use  of  those  arms  he  has  been  long  burnishing  for  battle. 
He  did  not  lack  for  opponents,  for  a  great  contest  was  raging, 
and  the  minds  of  men  were  red-hot  with  the  mighty  issues  of 
the  time.  He  had  scarce  thrown  down  the  glove  when  many 
hands  were  extended  to  take  it  up.  Then  commenced  a  strife 
on  the  political  arena,  in  which  the  opponents  fought  each  other 
with  bitter  and  passionate  vehemence.  What  the  pen  wrote,  the 
pistol,  unhappily,  was  too  often  called  upon  to  support ;  and  the 
young  politician  was  ere  long  engaged  in  more  than  one  duel, 
which  achieved  for  him  a  widely-extended  notoriety  and  a  ve 
nomous  party  hatred.  Of  these  quarrels  I  do  not  design  to  speak. 
It  is  no  part  of  my  purpose  to  inquire  who  was  to  blame  or  who 
was  faultless ;  and  I  would  not  move  the  ashes  resting  now  upon 
the  details  of  those  unhappy  affairs,  under  which  the  fire  per 
haps  still  smoulders,  full  of  old  enmities.  That  he  was  carried 
away  by  passion  often,  is  unfortunately  too  true ;  but  he  had  no 
love  for  conflict,  and  publicly  declared  his  aversion  to  "private 
war."  Unhappily  the  minds  of  his  political  opponents  were  too 
profoundly  swayed  by  the  passions  of  the  epoch  to  give  him 
credit  for  these  declarations.  They  were  not  listened  to,  and  the 
young  politician  became  the  mark  of  extreme  political  hatred. 
The  sins  of  passion  and  the  heated  arena  were  regarded  as  the 
coolly  planned  and  deliberately  designed  crimes  of  a  moral  mon 
ster,  who  had  never  felt  the  emotion  of  pity  or  love  for  his 
brother  man.  Intelligent  and  honourable  persons  believed  that 
all  the  young  man's  instincts  were  cruel ;  that  his  hatreds  were 
capricious  and  implacable ;  that  his  nature  was  that  of  the  tiger, 
thirsting  for  blood ;  his  conscience  paralysed  or  warped  by  a 
terrible  moral  disease.  His  splendid  oratory,  his  trenchant 
pen,  the  dash  and  courage  of  his  nature,  were  allowed ;  but 
these  were  his  only  "  good  gifts ;  "  he  was,  they  said,  the  Ishmael 
of  the  modern  world. 

All  this   he  knew,  and  he  continued  his  career,  trusting  to 
time.     He  fought  for  secession  ;  joined  the  First  Virginia  Begi- 


JENNINGS  WISE.  161 

ment,  and  served  at  Charlestowri,  in  the  John  Brown  raid. 
Then  war  came  in  due  time.  He  was  elected  captain  of  the 
Blues — the  oldest  volunteer  company  in  Virginia — took  the 
leadership  from  the  first,  as  one  born  to  command,  and  fought 
and  fell  at  that  bloody  Eoanoke  fight,  at  the  head  of  his  com 
pany,  and  cheering  on  his  men. 

His  body  was  brought  back  to  Eichmond,  laid  in  the  capitol, 
and  buried,  in  presence  of  a  great  concourse  of  mourners,  in 
Hollywood  Cemetery.  That  was  the  end  of  the  brief  young 
life — death  in  defence  of  his  native  land,  and  a  grave  in  the  be 
loved  soil,  by  the  side  of  the  great  river,  and  the  ashes  of  Mon 
roe,  brought  thither  by  himself  and  his  associates. 

Then  came  a  revulsion.  His  character  was  better  understood ; 
his  faults  were  forgotten ;  his  virtues  recognised.  Even  his  old 
opponents  hastened  to  express  their  sympathy  and  admiration. 
It  was  remembered  that  more  than  once  he  had  refused  to  return 
his  adversary's  fire ;  that  championship  of  one  whom  he  loved 
more  than  life  had  inflamed  his  enmity — no  merely  selfish  con 
siderations.  His  sweetness  of  temper  and  kindness  were  re 
called  by  many,  and  the  eyes  which  had  been  bent  upon  him 
with  horror  or  hatred,  shed  tears  beside  the  young  soldier's 
grave. 

Oh,  tardy  justice  of  good  men !  Oh,  laurel- wreath  upon  the 
coffin  ! — soft  words  spoken  in  the  dull,  cold  ear  of  death !  This 
soul  of  chivalry  and  honour — this  gentle,  kindly,  simple  heart — 
had  been  branded  as  the  enemy  of  his  species — as  a  haughty, 
soulless,  pitiless  monster ! 

In  speaking  of  this  young  Virginian,  I  wish  to  espouse  no 
personal  or  party  quarrel — to  arouse  none  of  those  enmities 
which  sleep  now — to  open  no  old  wounds,  and  to  fan  into  flame 
none  of  the  heart-burnings  of  the  past.  Those  who  contended 
with  him  most  bitterly  have  long  ago  forgotten  their  feud. 
Many  shed  tears  for  the  noble  youth  when  he  fell,  and  speak  of 
him  now  as  one  of  those  great  Virginians  whom  it  is  the  pride 
of  our  soil  to  have  produced.  They  know  him  better  now,  and 
understand  that  this  man  was  no  hater  of  his  species — no  Ish- 
mael  of  civilization,  cold  and  haughty  and  implacable — but  a 

11 


162  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

beautiful  and  noble  nature,  attuned  to  every  honourable  impulse, 
and  only  embittered  temporarily  by  party  passion.  Dying,  he 
has  suffered  change ;  and  there  is  a  beauty  in  the  pale,  cold  face, 
which  it  never  possessed  while  living.  Traits  'never  suspected 
come  out  now,  when  Death  has  stamped  the  countenance  with 
his  melancholy  seal ;  and  love  and  pity  have  quite  banished  the 
old  scorn  and  hatred.  The  green  grass  on  his  grave  has  covered 
all  enmity,  and  the  love  of  friends  has  taken  the  place  of  the 
bitterness  of  foes. 

Among  those  friends  who  knew  and  loved  him  living,  I  count 
myself.  To  know  him  thus  was  speedily  to  love  him — for  his 
traits  and  instincts  were  so  conspicuously  noble  and  endearing, 
that  he  irresistibly  attracted  the  affection  of  all  who  were  thrown 
in  familiar  contact  with  him.  How  gentle,  modest,  and  unas 
suming  these  inner  instincts  of  his  heart  were,  those  who  knew 
him  in  his  private  life  will  bear  witness.  They  will  tell  you  of 
his  honest  and  truthful  nature ;  his  unpretending  simplicity ; 
his  chivalric  impulses,  and  nobility  of  feeling.  Indeed,  you 
would  have  said  that  the  Creator  had  breathed  into  this  clay  the 
loveliest  traits  of  humanity,  and  raised  up  in  the  prosaic  nine 
teenth  century  a  "  good  knight"  of  old  days,  to  sl^w  the  love 
liness  of  honour. 

This  was  one  side  of  the  young  man's  character,  only.  With 
these  softer  traits  were  mingled  some  of  the  hardiest  endowments 
of  strong  manhood.  ISTo  man  was  ever  braver.  Indeed,  his 
nerve  had  in  it  something  antique  and  splendid,  as  of  the  elder 
days  of  chivalry,  when  neither  monster  nor  magician,  giant  nor 
winged  dragon,  could  make  the  heart  of  the  good  knight  quail, 
or  move  him  from  his  steadfast  purpose.  What  in  other  men 
was  the  courage  of  habit,  or  training,  or  calculation  of  forces,  was 
in  him  that  of  native  endowment  and  birthright.  To  match 
himself,  if  need  be,  against  any  odds,  however  overwhelming, 
and  breast  all  opposition  with  a  stubborn,  dauntless  front,  was  to 
act  as  his  character  dictated,  and  to  follow  his  temperament.  The 
sentiment  of  fear,  I  believe,  never  entered  his  breast ;  if  it  did,  it 
never  stayed  there  long  enough  for  him  to  make  its  acquaintance. 
He  would  have  led  the  charge  of  the  English  cavalry  at  Bala- 


JENNINGS   WISE.  163 

klava  with  the  nerve  and  dash  of  Hotspur,  glorying  in  the  roar 
of  the  enemy's  artillery,  and  resolute  to  take  their  guns  or  die. 
At  Thermopylae,  he  would  have  stood  beside  Leonidas,  and  fought 
and  died  without  the  shudder  of  a  nerve.  In  battle  at  the  head 
of  his  men,  his  coolness  and  resolution  were  invincible.  The 
grim  front  of  war  possessed  no  terrors  for  him,  and  he  advanced  into 
the  gulf  of  battle  with  the  calmness  of  a  holiday  soldier  on  parade. 

II. 

He  was  early  in  the  lists  as  the  advocate  of  resistance  to  the 
North,  and  fought  its  opponents  with  persistent  vehemence.  To 
"  wait"  was  to  sign  the  death-warrant  of  the  State,  he  declared', 
"  God  save  the  liberties  of  this  brave  old  Commonwealth  1 "  if 
this  was  the  course  defined  for  her.  What  he  preached  he  prac 
tised.  He  sounded  the  onset,  and  the  lines  once  in  motion,  he 
took  his  place  in  the  great  army.  At  first  as  a  private,  with 
musket -on  shoulder;  eager,  active,  untiring;  inspiring  all  with 
his  own  brave  spirit.  Then,  when  his  acknowledged  capacity 
for  leadership  placed  him  at  the  head  of  a  command,  he  took  the 
post  as  his  of  right,  and  led  his  men  as  all  who  knew  him  ex 
pected.  How  he  led  them  on  that  disastrous  day  at  Koanoke — 
with  what  heroic  nerve,  and  splendid  gallantrjr,  in  the  face  of 
the  deadliest  fire — let  his  old  comrades  in  arms  declare.  There, 
in  the  front  of  battle,  he  fell — giving  his  life  without  a  single 
regret  to  the  cause  he  loved. 

It  was  the  phase  of  character,  indicated  above,  which  the 
outer  world  chiefly  considered,  and  estimated  him  by.  Yet 
this  was  by  no  means  his  most  attractive  phase.  The  daunt 
less  nerve,  the  stubborn  and  indomitable  will,  revealed  them 
selves  on  certain  occasions  only — the  social  virtues  of*^e  indi 
vidual  were  seen  every  day.  It  would  be  difficult  to  imagine 
a  human  being  more  modest,  kindly,  and  simple.  His  modesty 
amounted  almost  to  shyhess ;  and  it  was  doubtless  this  species 
of  reserve  which  led  many  to  regard  him  as  cold,  and  desti 
tute  of  feeling.  Let  it  not  be  understood,  however,  that  he  was 
subject  to  mauvaise  Jionte — the  diffidence  of  one  who  distrusts 
his  own  powers,  and  shrinks  from  collision  with  other  minds. 


WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

His  peculiarity  was  rather  the  reverse,  as  his  perfect  self-posses 
sion  and  control  of  every  faculty  in  public  speaking  indicated. 
Self-reliance,  rather  than  self-distrust,  marked  the  character  of 
his  intellect — boldness  to  undertake,  and  unshrinking  courage  to 
execute.  But  in  this  there  was  no  arrogance — no  hauteur.  In 
the  combat  he  would  contend  with  all  his  powers,  and  shrink 
from  no  odds :  but  the  contest  once  over,  the  hot  blood  cool,  the 
old  modesty  returned,  and  the  kindly,  gentle  smile.  The  indul 
gence  of  his  affections  was  evidently  one  of  his  chief  happinesses. 
He  was  fond  of  children,  and  delighted  to  play  with  them,  shar 
ing  their  gambols  and  amusements  with  the  bonhomie  and  aban 
don  of  a  boy.  In  such  scenes,  the  vehement  young  politician  no 
doubt  took  refuge  from  the  strife  of  the  public  arena,  where  so 
many  hot  passions  met  and  clashed,  and  found  in  the  playful 
antics  of  children  the  antidote  to  the  scorns  and  hatreds  of  those 
grown-up  children — men.  It  was  in  the  society  of  the  eminent 
Virginian,  his  father,  however,  that  he  seemed  to  experience  his 
greatest  happiness ;  and  his  devotion  to  him  was  the  controlling 
sentiment  of  his  being.  If  this  sentiment  impelled  him  to  a  par 
tisanship  too  violent  at  times,  the  fault  will  not  be  regarded  as  a 
mean  or  ignoble  one,  nor  detract  in  any  measure  from  the 
character  here  attributed  to  him,  of  the  kindest  and  simplest  of 
gentlemen. 

The  intellect  which  accompanied  this  courageous  spirit  and 
kindly  heart  was  eminently  vigorous  and  original.  It  was  rather 
that  of  the  actor  than  the  thinker — rather,  ready,  acute,  inven 
tive  and  fruitful  in  resources — quick  to  move  and  to  strike,  in 
debate  or  reasoning  with  the  pen — than  deliberate,  philosophic, 
or  reflective.  It  wanted  the  breadth  and  depth  which  result 
from  study  and  meditation,  but  as  a  sharp  and  tempered  weapon 
to  accomplish  direct  tangible  results,  it  was  exceedingly  forcible 
and  effective.  As  a  writer  in  the  larger  acceptation  of  the  term, 
he  was  not  conspicuously  endowed;  but  his  style- as  a  journalist 
was  fluent,  eloquent,  and  when  his  nature  was  strongly  moved, 
full  of  power  and  the  fire  of  invective.  Some  of  his  editorial 
writings  deserve  to  be  collected,  and  preserved  in  a  permanent 
form,  as  among  the  most  forcible  expositions  of  the  great  princi- 


JENNINGS  WISE.  165 

pies  involved  in  the  struggle  which  absorbed  the  energies  of  the 
South. 

His  most  notable  gift  was  unquestionably  that  of  oratory.  He 
possessed  native  endowments  which  entitled  him  to  very  high 
rank  as  a  public  speaker.  In  the  columns  of  a  daily  journal  his 
powers  were  always  more  or  less  cramped,  and  did  not  assert 
their  full  strength,  but  on  "  the  stump  "  he  was  in  his  own  ele 
ment.  Here  all  the  faculties  of  his  intellect  and  nature  had  full 
swing,  and  "  ample  room  and  verge  enough "  for  their  exercise. 
The  spectator  saw  at  a  glance  that  the  young  man  with  the  thin 
slight  figure  and  quiet  manner,  was  a  born  orator.  His  first 
words  justified  the  opinion,  and  stamped  him  as  one  born  to 
move,  to  sway,  to  direct  the  thoughts  and  the  actions  of  men. 
The  crowd — that  unfailing  critic  of  a  public  speaker's  ability — 
always  received  him  with  acclamations,  and  hailed  his  appear 
ance  on  the  rostrum  with  loud  applause.  They  felt  that,  youth 
as  he  was,  and  as  yet  untrained  in  the  arts  of  the  orator,  he  was 
a  match  for  the  oldest  opponents,  and  they  were  content  to  leave 
the  advocacy  of  great  principles,  at  momentous  crises,  in  the 
hands  of  this  young  man — to  accept  and  rely  on  him  as  their 
champion. 

He  did  not  disappoint  their  expectations  ever.  A  born  politi 
cian,  and  thrilling  with  the  great  party  issues  before  the  country, 
he  entered  the  arena  with  the  bold  and  self-possessed  demeanour 
of  one  in  his  chosen  element,  and  equal  to  the  occasion.  Politi 
cal  history — the  careers  of  public  men — the  principles  underly 
ing  thq,  American  frame  of  government — all  were  thoroughly 
familiar  to  him,  and  his  knowledge  was  available  at  a  moment's 
notice.  His  speeches  were  skilful  combinations  of  philosophic 
reasoning  and  hard-hitting  illustrations.  In  the  employment  of 
invective,  his  handling  wasj^hat  of  a  master;  and  when  his  scorn 
of  some  unworthy  action  or  character  was  fully  aroused,  his  de 
livery  of  the  scathing  sarcasm  or  the  passionate  defiance  was 
inexpressibly  vehement  and  bitter.  Those  who  have  seen  the 
flashing  eye  and  the  scornful  lip  of  the  young  orator  at  such 
times,  will  not  readily  forget  them,  or  wonder  at  the  wild  ex 
citement  of  the  crowd  as  they  listened  to  these  outbursts.  Even 


166  WEARING    OF   THE    GRAY. 

the  cool  intellects  of  old  men  were  taken  captive  with  the  rest, 
and  I  think  all  who  heard  the  youthful  speaker,  came  away  with 
the  impression  that  time  and  training  only  were  needed,  to  make 
him  one  of  the  most  famous  orators  of  the  old  Commonwealth 
which  has  produced  so  many  giants. 

With  the  termination  of  his  speeches  disappeared  all  the  pas 
sion,  vehemence,  and  ardour  of  the  man.  The  handkerchief 
passed  over  the  damp  brow,  seemed  to  wipe  away  all  excite 
ment  ;  and  the  fiery  gladiator,  swaying  all  minds  by  his  fierce 
invective,  or  his  vivid  reasoning,  subsided  into  the  quiet,  almost 
shy  young  man.  The  old  modesty  and  simplicity  of  demeanour 
returned,  and  the  forces  of  the  vigorous  intellect  returned  to 
rest,  until  some  other  occasion  should  call  them  into  exercise.  , 

I  could  add  many  things  relating  to  this  eminent  young  man 
in  his  personal  and  private  character,  but  the  subject  may  not 
iuterest  the  general  reader  as  much  as  it  does  him  who  writes. 
Perhaps,  too,  they  are  better  kept  for  other  years,  when  time 
shall  have  extinguished  the  few  heart-burnings  that  remain,  and 
obliterated  the  scars  of  old  contests.  I  have  thought  it  right, 
however,  to  put  thus  much  concerning  him  on  record,  without 
shaping  my  discourse  to  please  either  friend  or  foe.  Foes,  I 
believe,  he  has  no  longer.  Even  those  who  most  bitterly  op 
posed  him  while  living,  now  acknowledge  his  great  qualities, 
and  lament  his  untimely  end. 

If  enmity  exist  toward  him  in  any  heart,  however,  no  answer 
ing  defiance  comes  back.  The  weapon  of  the  good  knight  will 
never  more  be  drawn — he  has  fought  his  last  battle  and  yielded 
up  his  soul.  He  sleeps  now  quietly,  after  all  the  turmoils  of 
life — after  heart-burnings  and  triumphs,  and  loves  and  hatreds — 
sleeps  in  the  bosom  of  the  land  he  loved,  and  toiled,  and  thought, 
and  fought,  and  died  for.  His  is  not  the  least  worthy  heart 
which  has  poured  out  its  blood  for  Virginia  and  the  South  ;  and 
in  the  pages  of  our  annals,  among  the  names  of  our  dead  heroes 
who  surrendered  youth,  and  coming  fame,  and  friends,  and  home, 
and  life  for  their  native  land — surrendered  them  without  a  mur 
mur  or  a  single  regret — among  these  great  souls  the  Genius  of 
History  must  inscribe  the  name  of  Jennings  Wise. 


PART  II. 
IN   THE    CAVALRY. 


THE  infantry  and  the  artillery  of  an  army  live  and  move  and 
have  their  being  in  a  sphere  widely  different  from  that  of  the 
cavalry. 

The  first  named  arms  of  the  service  perform  the  "  heavy 
work"  in  the  great  pitched  battles.  When  armies  face  each 
other,  and  the  moment  has  come  for  a  final  trial  of  strength,  it 
is  the  infantry  and  artillery  to  which  a  commander  looks.  When 
the  sun  rises  on  one  of  these  days  of  history,  the  foot-soldier 
or  the  cannoneer  feels  that  all  his  energies  will  be  required. 
If  he  falls  he  falls ;  but  if  the  enemy's  bullets  spare  him,  he  can 
look  for  rest  on  the  morrow — for  a  great  pitched  battle  decides 
everything.  The  column  may  advance  or  retire,  but  it  seldom 
fights  very  heavily  thereafter.  The  weather,  too,  counts  greatly 
for  or  against  active  service  with  the  artillery  or  infantry — the 
winter  is  fatal.  Then  the  wheels  of  the  guns  sink  in  the  slushy 
soil ;  wagons  cannot  move  with  rations ;  and  thus  conquered  by 
the  rain  and  snow,  the  cannoneers  and  musket-bearers  settle 
down  in  their  comfortable  camps,  build  their  log-cabins,  or  their 
arbours  of  boughs ;  and  days,  and  weeks,  and  months  pass  by 
in  perfect  quiet,  until  the  spring  sun  dries  the  roads,  and  the 
thunder  of  artillery  and  musketry  again  roars  across  the  fields 
of  May  or  June. 

Thus  the  gunners  and  footmen  bear  the  brunt  in  the  great 
battles,  to  retire  thereafter  to  camp  and  rest.  Their  ranks  may 
be  decimated,  but  those  who  survive  enjoy  something  like  re 
pose.  They  build  their  chimneys,  broil  their  meat,  smoke  their 
pipes,  and  lounge,  and  laugh,  and  sing  around  the  camp-fire, 
with  "  none  to  make  them  afraid." 

The  life  of  the  cavalry  is-tftfferent.  They  do  not  perform  the 
hard  work  in  the  conflicts  of  armies,  where  the  improved  fire 
arms  of  modern  times  would  speedily  destroy  their  horses — and 


170  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

Worses  were  beyond  the  value  of  gold,  almost,  to  the  South  in  the 
recent  war — nor  are  the  losses  of  the  cavalry  in  any  one  engage 
ment  as  great  as  those  of  the  infantry.  But  the  work  performed 
by  the  mounted  men  of  an  army  is  incessant.  They  fight 
throughout  the  year — in  winter  as  in  summer — when  the  ground 
is  a  quagmire,  as  when  it  is  firm.  They  cannot  rest,  from  the 
very  nature  of  things,  for  they  are  the  "eyes  and  ears"  of  an 
army.  Their  duty  is  to  watch — and  to  watch,  the  cavalier  must 
be  in  the  saddle  with  carbine  ready.  He  must  watch  by  night 
as  well  as  day ;  for  night  is  the  season  of  surprises,  and  to 
guard  the  army  against  surprise  is  the  chief  duty  of  the  cavalry. 
Seeing  the  long  column  falling  slowly  back  on  days  of  conclu 
sive  battle,  the  infantry  are  apt  to  sneer,  and  think,  if  they  dp 
not  say — and  they  say  it  often — "  We  do  the  hard  fighting,  the 
cavalry  the  fancy  work  !  "  or,  "  Here  comes  the  cavalry,  going 
to  the  rear — a  fight  is  on  hand ! "  They  forget,  however,  one 
thing — that  while  the  infantry  has  been  resting  in  camp,  with 
regular  rations  and  sound  sleep,  the  cavalry  have  been  day  and 
night  in  the  saddle,  without  rations  at  all,  watching  and  fighting 
all  along  the  front.  Let  justice  be  done  to  all ;  and  it  is  not  the 
noble  infantry  or  artillery  of  the  late  army  of  Northern  Yir- 
ginia  who  will  be  guilty  of  injustice  to  their  brethren  of  the 
cavalry,  who,  under  Stuart,  Ashby,  Hampton,  and  the  Lees,  did 
that  long,  hard  work,  leaving  Virginia,  Maryland,  and  Pennsyl 
vania  strewed  with  their  dead  bodies. 

But  a  comparison  of  the  relative  value  of  the  different  arms 
was  not  the  writer's  purpose.  His  aim  was  to  point  out  the 
contrast  which  exists  in  the  mere  mode  of  living.  The  foot- 
soldier  is  confined  to  his  camp  for  the  greater  portion  of  the 
time,  and  sameness  rather  than  variety,  common-place  rather 
than  incident,  marks  his  days.  In  the  cavalry  this  does  not 
exist.  As  there  is  no  rest  for  the  cavalry -man,  so  there  is  no 
dull  routine — no  "  every  day  the  same."  His  life  is  full  of 
movement,  variety,  incident,  and  adventure ;  he  is  ever  in  the 
saddle,  and  fighting,  either  as  a  unit  of  the  long  drawn  column, 
advancing  or  retiring  with  the  army,  or  in  scouts  and  skirmisnes 
— the  theatre  of  his  work  shifts  quietly  as  do  the  scenes  of  a 


IN  THE   CAVALRY.  171 

drama  on  the  stage.  All  that  makes  the  hard  and  brutal  trade 
of  war  endurable  seems  to  gather  around  him,  wreathing  with 
brilliant  flowers  the  keen  edge  of  the  sabre. 

The  bugle  sounding  u  Boots  and  saddles ! "  and  then  "  To 
horse  !  "  replaces  the  drum.  "  To  horse  and  away  !  "  is  the 
cavalry  motto.  Once  in  the  saddle  and  moving,  his  life  of  quick 
transitions,  odd  experiences,  and  perilous  or  grotesque  adven 
tures,  begins  in  earnest.  There  is  a  "glorious  uncertainty" 
about  his  movements  which  is  not  without  a  singular  charm. 
He  is  not  so  much  a  common  soldier,  as  a  gay  knight-errant, 
knowing  not  where  he  may  lay  his  head  at  the  end  of  his  day's 
journey — certain  only  that  it  will  not  be  beneath  the  shelter  of 
a  tent,  nor  with  any  regular  ration  upon  which  to  stay  his 
hunger.  The  infantry  and  artillery  have  wagons  and  rations ; 
and  theoretically  the  cavalry  have  also — but  only  in  theory. 
They  are  never  "  up  " — these  dilatory  wagons — and  as  to  tents, 
those  are  a  luxury  of  which  the  cavalry-man  seldom  even 
dreams.  The  blanket  behind  his  saddle  is  his  tent ;  he  lies 
down  by  the  bivouac  fire  supperless  often  ;  neither  quarter-mas 
ter  nor  commissary  favours  him ;  and  when  he  "  forages "  for 
food,  he  is  denounced  as  a  "  straggler." 

But  the  cavalry-man  accepts  philosophically  the  uncompli 
mentary  opinion  entertained  of  him,  in  view  of  the  certain 
charms  of  his  existence.  He  is  the  child  of  adventure,  roaming 
the  fields  and  forests,  and  revelling  in  his  freedom.  He  knows 
whence  he  comes,  but  not  whither  the  winds  will  waft  him.  He  is 
never  at  rest ;  never  certain  what  the  next  hour,  nay,  the  coming 
moment,  will  bring  forth.  At  any  instant  may  come  a  surprise, 
an  attack,  the  bang  of  carbines,  the  clash  of  sabres — and  then, 
pursuit  or  retreat,  defeat  or  victory.  If  he  falls,  he  falls  ;  if  he 
survives,  he  sleeps  serenely,  wrapped  up  in  his  blanket,  the  root 
of  a  tree  or  a  saddle  for  a  pillow,  overhead  "  the  canopy,"  all 
studded  with  the  fires  of  night,  and  dreams  of  scenes  and  faces 
far  away. 

Such  a.  life  is  ever  fresh,  and  possesses  never-ending  attrac 
tions.  To-day  an  exhausting  march  and  a  heavy  fight — to-mor 
row  rest,  and  stories,  and  jests,  and  laughter;  one  day  a  feast 


172  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

of  the  rarest — the  next  a  famine  of  the  sorest.  To  ride  on,  hour 
after  hour,  through  the  gloom  of  night,  until  the  frame  is  weary 
unto  death,  and  the  cavalry-man  totters  in  the  saddle  for  very 
exhaustion  and  sleeplessness — that  is  not  pleasant.  But  then 
sleep  is  magical  when  he  halts  at  last ;  food  is  ambrosial  when 
he  broils  his  chance  slice  of  bacon  on  the  end  of  a  stick  in  the 
blaze  of  the  camp-fire  ! 

To  the  cavalry-man  belongs  the  fresh  life  of  the  forest — the 
wandering  existence  which  brings  back  the  days  of  old  romance. 
Do  you  wish  to  form  some  conception  of  the  life  of  that  model 
cavalry-man  and  gentleman,  Don  Quixote  ?  To  do  so,  you  have 
only  to  "join  the  cavalry."  Like  the  Don,  your  cavalry -man 
goes  through  the  land  in  search  of  adventures,  and  finds  many.' 
He  penetrates  retired  localities — odd,  unknown  nooks — meeting 
with  curious  characters  and  out-of-the-way  experiences,  which 
would  make  the  fortune  of  a  romance  writer.  Here,  far  away 
from  the  rushing  world  and  the  clash  of  arms,  he  finds  bright 
faces,  and  is  welcomed  by  "  heaven's  last  best  gift" — for  woman 
is  ever  the  guardian  angel  of  the  soldier.  She  smiles  upon  him 
when  he  is  gloomy ;  feeds  him  when  he  is  hungry ;  and  it  is 
often  the  musical  laughter  of  a  girl  which  the  cavalry -man  hears 
as  he  rides  on  musing — not  the  rattle  of  his  miserable  sabre ! 
Thus  romance,  sentiment,  and  poetry  meet  him  everywhere.  And 
is  he  fond  of  the  grotesque  ?  That  meets  him,  too,  in  a  thou 
sand  places.  Of  the  pathetic  ?  Ah  !  that  salutes  him  often  on 
the  fierce  arena  of  war  !  Thus,  living  a  fresh  life,  full  of  vivid 
emotions,  he  passes  his  days  and  nights,  till  the  fatal  bullet 
comes — laughing,  fighting,  feasting,  starving,  to  the  end. 

His  life  is  better  than  a  collegiate  education,  for  it  teaches 
him  the  mysteries  of  human  nature.  He  does  not  pass  his  days 
amid  social  circles,  marked  by  respectable  uniformity  and  madden 
ing  common-place,  but  is  thrown  in  contact  with  every  species  of 
"moving accident,"  every  variety  of  the  human  species;  scouts, 
"  guerillas,"  secret  agents,  prisoners,  night-hawks,  spies,  friends 
in  blue  coats,  enemies  in  gray — all  that  the  highways  and  the 
byways,  the  fields,  the  forests,  and  the  day  and  the  night  con 
tain,  pass  before  the  eyes  of  the  cavalry-man.  He  sees  the 


IN  THE   CAVALRY.  173 

adventurous  life  of  the  ranger  and  partisan,  hears  the  ring  of 
the  sabre,  the  crack  of  sharpshooters,  the  roar  of  cannon,  and 
the  shouts  of  the  squadrons  as  they  charge.  His  is  the  existence 
of  the  rover :  the  sudden  peril,  the  narrow  escape,  and  the  fun 
and  frolic  of  the  bivouac.  When  he  summons  his  recollections, 
it  is  not  so  much  the  "  great  events"  of  war  as  its  pictures  and 
incidents  of  which  he  discourses.  He  revives  its  romantic 
scenes  and  §&y  adventures,  only — remembering  its  smiles,  sighs, 
laughter,  tears,  its  gloom  or  sunlight,  as  it  actually  lowered  or 
shone.  The  writer  of  this  eulogy  has  carried  a  musket,  albeit 
he  never  did  hard  work  with  it ;  has  served  in  the  artillery,  and 
loves  it,  as  he  honours  the  great  arm  which  thundered  upon 
every  battle-field,  and  held  the  rear,  all  along  the  Valley,  against 
Sheridan,  and  fired  the  last  gun  of  the  war  at  Appomatox.  It 
is  simply  not  possible  that  he  could  utter  a  word  against  those 
heroes  of  the  infantry  and  artillery  whom  he  is  proud  to  call 
his  comrades ;  but  he  remembers  with  most  interest  and  pleasure 
the  gay  days  when  he  "followed  the  feather"  of  Stuart,  that 
fleur  des  chevaliers.  In  the  saddle,  near  that  good  knight  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  war  became  a  splendid  drama,  rather  than 
mere  bloody  work  ;  a  great  stage,  whereon  the  scenes  were  ever 
shifting,  and  the  "exits"  were  all  made  to  the  sound  of  the 
bugle !  That  sound  was  stirring  ;  and  recalling  now  his  various 
experiences,  the  writer  of  this  page  hears  the  ring  of  the  bugle, 
not  the  roll  of  the  drum ;  remembers  the  life  of  the  cavalry 
rather  than  that  of  the  infantry  or  the  artillery. 

Some  of  these  memories  are  here  recorded.  The  narratives 
are  necessarily  egotistical  in  appearance,  since  the  writer  was 
compelled  to  speak  of  what  he  saw  in  person,  not  by  others' 
eyes,  to  give  any  value  to  his  recollections.  The  reader  is 
solicited,  however,  to  regard  this  circumstance  as  unavoidable, 
and  further  to  believe  that  a  fondness  for  making  himself  con 
spicuous  is  not  a  trait  of  the  writer's  character.  For  the  rest, 
the  pictures  he  has  drawn  are  accurate,  as  far  as  his  ability  has 
enabled  him  to  present  figures  and  events  in  their  real  colours. 
If  the  record  is  dull,  it  is  the  dulness  of  truth,  not  the  stupidity 
of  a  bad  romance. 


STUART'S 

"RIDE  AROUND  M'CLELLAN  "  IN  JUNE,  1862. 


WHO  that  went  with  Stuart  on  his  famous  "  Eide  around 
McClellan  "  in  the  summer  of  1862,  just  before  the  bloody 
battles  of  the  Chickahominy,  will  ever  forget  the  fun,  the  frolic, 
the  romance — and  the  peril  too — of  that  fine  journey  ?  Think 
ing  of  the  gay  ride  now,  when  a  century  seems  to  have  swept 
between  that  epoch  and  the  present,  I  recall  every  particular, 
live  over  every  emotion.  Once  more  I  hear  the  ringing- laugh  of 
Stuart,  and  see  the  keen  flash  of  the  blue  eyes  under  the  black 
feather  of  the  prince  of  cavaliers ! 

If  the  reader  will  follow  me  he  shall  see  what  took  place  on 
this  rapid  ride,  witness  some  incidents  of  this  first  and  king  of 
raids.  The  record  will  be  that  of  an  eye-witness,  and  the  per 
sonal  prominence  of  the  writer  must  be  excused  as  inseparable 
from  the  narrative.  I  need  not  dwell  upon  the  "  situation  "  in 
June,  1862.  All  the  world  knows  that,  at  that  time,  McClellan 
had  advanced  with  his  magnificent  army  of  156,000  men,  to  the 
banks  of  the  Chickahominy,  and  pushing  across,  had  fought  on 
the  last  day  of  May  the  bloody  but  indecisive  battle  of  the  Seven 
Pines.  On  the  right  it  was  a  Confederate,  on  the  left  a  Federal 
success  ;  and  General  McClellan  drew  back,  marshalled  his  great 
lines,  darkening  both  the  northern  and  southern  banks  of  the 
Chickahominy,  and  prepared  for  a  more  decisive  blow  at  the 
Confederate  capital,  whose  spires  were  in  sight.  Before  him, 


STUART'S  "RIDE  AROUND  M'CLELLAN."  175 

however,  lay  the  Southern  army,  commanded  now  by  Lee,  who 
had  succeeded  Johnston,  wounded  in  the  fight  of  "  Seven  Pines." 
The  moment  was  favourable  for  a  heavy  attack  by  Lee.  Jack 
son  had  just  driven  before  him  the  combined  forces  of.  Shields 
and  Fremont,  and  on  the  bloody  field  of  Port  Republic  ended 
the  great  campaign  of  the  Valley  at  one  blow.  The  veterans  of 
his  command  could  now  be  concentrated  on  the  banks  of  the 
Chickahomiriy  against  McClellan ;  a  combined  advance  of  the 
forces  under  Lee  and  Jackson  might  save  the  capital.  But  how 
should  the  attack  be  made  ?  In  council  of  war,  General  Stuart 
told  me  he  proposed  an  assault  upon  General  McClellan's  left 
wing  from  the  direction  of  James  Eiver,  to  cut  him  off  from  that 
base.  But  this  suggestion  was  not  adopted  ;  the  defences  were 
regarded  as  too  strong.  It  was  considered  a  better  plan  to  attack 
the  Federal  army  on  the  north,  bank  of  the  Chickahominy,  drive 
it  from  its  works,  and  try  the  issue  in  the  fields  around  Cold 
Harbour.  The  great  point  was  to  ascertain  if  this  was  practica 
ble,  and  especially  to  find  what  defences,  if  any,  the  enemy  had 
to  guard  the  approach  to  their  right  wing.  If  these  were  slight, 
the  attack  could  be  made  with  fair  prospects  of  success.  Jackson 
could  sweep  around  while  Lee  assailed  the  lines  near  Mechanics- 
ville ;  then  one  combined  assault  would  probably  defeat  the 
Federal  force.  To  find  the  character  of  the  enemy's  works 
beyond  the  stream — his  positions  and  movements. — General 
Stuart  was  directed  to  take  a  portion  of  his  cavalry,  advance  as 
far  as  Old  Church,  if  practicable,  and  then  be  guided  by  circum 
stances.  Such  were  the  orders  with  which  Stuart  set  out  about 
moonrise  on  the  night,  I  think,  of  June  12,  upon  this  dangerous 
expedition. 

As  the  young  cavalier  mounted  his  horse  on  that  moonlight 
night  he  was  a  gallant  figure  to  look  at.  The  gray  coat  buttoned 
to  the  chin  ;  the  light  French  sabre  balanced  by  the  pistol  in  its 
black  holster ;  the  cavalry  boots  above  the  knee,  and  the  brown 
hat  with  its  black  plume  floating  above  the  bearded  features, 
the  brilliant  eyes,  and  the  huge  moustache,  which  curled  with 
laughter  at  the  slightest  provocation — these  made  Stuart  the  per 
fect  picture  of  a  gay  cavalier,  and  the  spirited  horse  he  rode 


176  WEARING  OF  THE  GKAY. 

seemed  to  feel  that  he  carried  one  whose  motto  was  to  "do  or 
die."  I  chanced  to  be  his  sole  companion  as  he  galloped  over 
the  broad  field  near  his  headquarters,  and  the  glance  of  the  blue 
eyes  of  Stuart  at  that  moment  was  as  brilliant  as  the  lightning 
itself. 

Catching  up  with  his  column  of  about  1500  horsemen,  and 
two  pieces  of  horse-artillery  under  Colonels  William  H.  F.  Lee, 
Fitz  Lee,  and  Will.  T.  Martin,  of  Mississippi — cavalier  as  brave 
as  ever  drew  sabre — Stuart  pushed  on  northward  as  if  going  to 
join  Jackson,  and  reaching  the  vicinity  of  Taylorsville,  near 
Hanover  Junction,  went  that  night  into  bivouac.  He  embraced 
the  opportunity,  after  midnight,  of  riding  with  Colonel  W.  H. 
F.  Lee  to  "  Hickory  Hill,"  the  residence  of  Colonel  Williams 
Wickham — afterward  General  Wickham — who  had  been  re 
cently  wounded  and  paroled.  Here  he  went  to  sleep  in  his 
chair  after  talking  with  Colonel  Wickham,  narrowly  escaped 
capture  from  the  enemy  near,  and  returning  before  daylight, 
advanced  with  his  column  straight  upon  Hanover  Court-House. 
Have  you  ever  visited  this  picturesque  spot,  reader  ?  We  looked 
upon  it  on  that  day  of  June — upon  its  old  brick  court-house, 
where  Patrick  Henry  made  his  famous  speech  against  the  par 
sons,  its  ancient  tavern,  its  modest  roofs,  the  whole  surrounded 
by  the  fertile  fields  waving  with  golden  grain — all  this  we  looked 
at  with  unusual  interest.  For  in  this  little  bird's  nest,  lost  as  it 
were  in  a  sea  of  rippling  wheat  and  waving  foliage,  some  "Yan 
kee  cavalry "  had  taken  up  their  abode ;  their  horses  stood 
ready  saddled  in  the  street,  and  this  dark  mass  we  now  gazed  at 
furtively  from  behind  a  wooden  knoll,  in  rear  of  which  Stuart's 
column  was  drawn  up  ready  to  move  at  the  word.  Before  he 
gave  the  signal,  the  General  dispatched  Colonel  Fitz  Lee  round 
to  the  right,  to  flank  and  cut  off  the  party.  But  all  at  once  the 
scouts  in  front  were  descried  by  the  enemy;  shots  resounded; 
and  seeing  that  his  presence  was  discovered,  Stuart  gave  the 
word,  and  swept  at  a  thundering'  gallop  down  the  hill.  The 
startled  "  blue  birds,"  as  we  used  to  call  our  Northern  friends, 
did  not  wait;  the  squadron  on  picket  at  the  court-house,  num 
bering  some  one  hundred  and  fifty  men,  hastily  got  to  horse — 


X    js 

_S    ^ 

3'  A 


STUART'S  "EIDE  AKOUND  M'CLELLAN."  177 

then  presto !  they  disappear  in  a  dense  cloud  of  dust  from  which 
echo  some  parting  salutes  from  their  carbines.  Stuart  pressed 
on  rapidly,  took  the  road  to  Old  Church,  and  near  a  place  called 
Hawes'  Shop,  in  a  thickly  wooded  spot,  was  suddenly  charged 
himself.  It  did  not  amount  to  much,  and  seemed  rather  an 
attempt  at  reconnoissance.  A  Federal  officer  at  the  head  of  a 
detachment  came  on  at  full  gallop,  very  nearly  ran  into  the  head 
of  our  column,  and  then  seeing  the  dense  mass  of  gray  coats, 
fired  his  pistol,  wheeled  short  about,  and  went  back  at  full  speed, 
with  his  detachment. 

Stuart  had  given,  in  his  ringing  voice,  the  order:  "Form 
fours !  draw  sabre !  charge !  "  and  now  the  Confederate  people 
pursued  at  headlong  speed,  uttering  shouts  and  yells  sufficiently 
loud  to  awaken  the  seven  sleepers !  The  men  were  evidently 
exhilarated  by  the  chase,  the  enemy  just  keeping  near  enough 
to  make  an  occasional  shot  practicable.  A  considerable  number 
of  the  Federal  cavalrymen  were  overtaken  and  captured,  and 
these  proved  to  belong  to  the  company  in  which  Colonel  Fitz 
Lee  had  formerly  been  a  lieutenant.  I  could  not  refrain  from 
laughter  at  the  pleasure  which  "Colonel  Fitz" — whose  motto 
should  be  " lowjours  gai" — seemed  to  take  in  inquiring  after  his 
old  cronies.  "  Was  Brown  alive  ?  where  was  Jones  ?  and  was 
Kobinson  sergeant  still?"  Colonel  Fitz  never  stopped  until  he 
found  out  everything.  The  prisoners  laughed  as  they  recog 
nised  him.  Altogether,  reader,  the  interview  was  the  most 
friendly  imaginable. 

The  gay  chase  continued  until  we  reached  the  Tottapotamoi,  a 
sluggish  stream,  dragging  its  muddy  waters  slowly  between 
rush-clad  banks,  beneath  drooping  trees;  and  this  was  crossed 
by  a  small  rustic  bridge.  The  line  of  the  stream  was  entirely 
undefended  by  works ;  the  enemy's  right  wing  was  unprotected  ; 
Stuart  had  accomplished  the  object  of  his  expedition,  and  after 
ward  piloted  Jackson  over  this  very  same  road.  Bat  to  con 
tinue  the  narrative  of  his  movements.  The  picket  at  the  bridge 
had  been  quickly  driven  in,  and  disappeared  at  a  gallop,  and  on 
the  high  ground  beyond,  Colonel  W.  H.  F.  Lee,  who  had  taken 
the  front,  encountered  the  enemy.  The  force  appeared  to  be 

12 


178  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

about  a  regiment,  and  they  were  drawn  up  in  line  of  battle  in 
the  fields  to  receive  our  attack.  It  came  without  delay.  Plac 
ing  himself  at  the  head  of  his  horsemen,  Colonel  Lee  swept  for 
ward  at  the  pas  de  charge,  and  with  shouts  the  two  lines  came 
together.  The  shock  was  heavy,  and  the  enemy— a  portion  of 
the  old  United  States  Regulars,  commanded  by  Captain  Royal — 
stood  their  ground  bravely,  meeting  the  attack  with  the  sabre. 
Swords  clashed,  pistols  and  carbines  banged,  yells,  shouts,  cheers 
resounded;  then  the  Federal  line  was  seen  to  give  back,  and 
take  to  headlong  flight.  They  were  pursued  with  ardour,  and 
the  men  were  wild  with  this — to  many  of  them — their  first  fight. 
But  soon  after  all  joy  disappeared  from  their  faces,  at  sight  of  a 
spectacle  which  greeted  them.  Captain  Latane,  of  the  Essex 
cavalry,  had  been  mortally  wounded  in  the  charge,  and  as  the 
men  of  his  company  saw  him  lying  bloody  before  them,  many  a 
bearded  face  was  wet  with  tears.  The  scene  at  his  grave  after 
ward  became  the  subject  of  Mr.  Washington's  picture,  "The 
Burial  of  Latane ;  "  and  in  his  general  order  after  the  expedition, 
Stuart  called  upon  his  command  to  take  for  their  watchword  in 
the  future  "Avenge  Latane!"  Captain  Royal,  the  Federal  com 
mandant,  had  also  been  badly  wounded,  and  many  of  his  force 
killed.  I  remember  passing  a  Dutch  cavalryman  who  was 
writhing  with  a  bullet  through  the  breast,  and  biting  and  tearing 
up  the  ground.  He  called  for  water,  and  I  directed  a  servant 
at  a  house  near  by  to  bring  him  some.  The  last  I  saw  of  him, 
a  destitute  cavalryman  was  taking  off  his  spurs  as  he  was  dying. 
"War  is  a  hard  trade. 

Fitz  Lee  immediately  pressed  on  and  burst  into  the  camp 
near  Old  Church,  where  large  supplies  of  boots,  pistols,  liquors, 
and  other  commodities  were  found.  These  were  speedily  appro 
priated  by  the  men,  and  the  tents  were  set  on  fire  amid  loud 
shouts.  The  spectacle  was  animating ;  but  a  report  having 
got  abroad  that  one  of  the  tents  contained  powder,  the  vicinity 
thereof  was  evacuated  in  almost  less  than  no  time.  We  were 
now  at  Old  Church,  where  Stuart  was  to  be  guided  in  his  further 
movements  by  circumstances.  I  looked  at  him ;  he  was  evi 
dently  reflecting.  In  a  moment  he  turned  round  to  me  and  said : 


STUART'S  "RIDE  AROUND  M'CLELLAN."  179 

"  Tell  Fitz  Lee  to  come  along,  I'm  going  to  move  on  with  my 
column."  These  words  terminated  my 'doubt,  and  I  understood 
in  an  instant  that  the  General  had  decided  on  the  bold  and 
hazardous  plan  of  passing  entirely  round  McClellan's  army. 

"  I  think  the  quicker  we  move  now  the  better,"  I  said,  with  a 
laugh. 

"  Eight,"  was  Stuart's  reply ;  "  tell  the  column  to  move  on  at 
a  trot." 

So  at  a  rapid  trot  the  column  moved. 

II. 

The  gayest  portion  of  the  raid  now  began.  From  this 
moment  it  was  neck  or  nothing,  do  or  die.  We  had  one  chance 
of  escape  against  ten  of  capture  or  destruction. 

Stuart  had  decided  upon  his  course  with  that  rapidity,  good 
judgment,  and  decision,  which  were  the  real  secrets  of  his  splen 
did  efficiency  as  a  leader  of  cavalry,  in  which  capacity  I  believe 
that  he  has  never  been  surpassed,  either  in  the  late  war  or  any 
other.  He  was  now  in  the  very  heart  of  the  enemy's  citadel, 
with  their  enormous  masses  upon  every  side.  He  had  driven  in 
their  advanced  force,  passed  within  sight  of  the  white  tents  of 
General  McClellan's  headquarters,  burned  their  camps,  and  ascer 
tained  all  that  he  wished.  How  was  he  to  return  ?  He  could 
not  cross  the  Pamunkey,  and  make  a  circuit  back ;  he  had  no 
pontoons.  He  could  not  return  over  the  route  by  which  he  had 
advanced.  As  events  afterward  showed,  the  alarm  had  been 
given,  and  an  overpowering  force  of  infantry,  cavalry,  and  artil 
lery  had  been  rapidly  moved  in  that  direction  to  intercept  the 
daring  raider.  Capture  stared  him  in  the  face,  on  both  of  these 
routes — across  the  Pamunkey,  or  back  as  he  came ;  he  must 
find  some  other  loophole  of  escape. 

Such  was  the  dangerous  posture  of  affairs,  and  such  was  the 
important  problem  which  Stuart  decided  in  five  minutes.  He 
determined  to  make  the  complete  circuit  of  McClellan's  army  ; 
and  crossing  the  Chickahominy  below  Long  Bridge,  re-enter 
the  Confederate  lines  from  Charles  City.  If  on  his  way  he 


180  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

encountered  cavalry  he  intended  to  fight  it ;  if  a  heavy  force  of 
infantry  barred  his  way  he  would  elude,  or  cut  a  path  through  it ; 
if  driven  to  the  wall  and  debarred  from  escape  he  did  not  mean 
to  surrender.  A  few  days  afterward  I  said  to  him  : 

"  That  was  a  tight  place  at  the  river,  General.  If  the  enemy 
had  come  down  on  us,  you  would  have  been  compelled  to  have 
surrendered." 

"  No,"  was  his  reply ;  "  one  other  course  was  left." 

"What  was  that?" 

"To  die  game." 

And  I  know  that  such  was  his  intention.  When  a  commander 
means  to  die  game  rather  than  surrender  he  is  a  dangerous 
adversary. 

From  Old  Church  onward  it  was  terra  incognita.  What  force 
of  the  enemy  barred  the  road  was  a  question  of  the  utmost 
interest,  but  adventure  of  some  description  might  be  safely 
counted  on.  In  about  twenty-four  hours  I,  for  one,  expected 
either  to  be  laughing  with  my  friends  within  the  Southern  lines, 
or  dead,  or  captured.  Which  of  these  three  results  would  follow, 
seemed  largely  to  depend  upon  the  "  chapter  of  accidents."  At 
a  steady  trot  now,  with  drawn  sabres  and  carbines  ready,  the 
cavalry,  followed  by  the  horse-artillery,  which  was  not  used  dur 
ing  the  whole  expedition,  approached  Tunstall's  Station  on  the 
York  Eiver  railroad,  the  enemy's  direct  line  of  communication 
with  his  base  of  supplies  at  the  "White  House." 

Everywhere  the  ride  was  crowded  with  incident.  The  scout 
ing  andjflanking  parties  constantly  picked  up  stragglers,  and 
overhauled  unsuspecting  wagons  filled  with  the  most  tempting 
stores.  In  this  manner  a  wagon,  stocked  with  champagne 
and  every  variety  of  wines,  belonging  to  a  General  of  the 
Federal  army,  fell  a  prey  to  the  thirsty  gray-backs.  Still  they 
pressed  on.  Every  moment  an  attack  was  expected  in  front  or 
rear.  Colonel  Will.  T.  Martin  commanded  the  latter.  "  Tell 
Colonel  Martin,"  Stuart  said  to  me,  "  to  have  his  artillery  ready, 
and  look  out  for  an  attack  at  any  moment."  I  had  delivered 
the  message  and  was  riding  to  the  front  again,  when  suddenly  a 
loud  cry  arose  of  "  Yankees  in  the  rear !  "  Every  sabre  flashed, 


STUART'S  "RIDE  AROUND  M'CLELLAN."  181 

fours  were  formed,  the  men  wheeled  about,  when  all  at  once  a 
stunning  roar  of  laughter  ran  along  the  line ;  it  was  a  canard. 
The  column  moved  up  again  with  its  flanking  parties  well  out. 
The  men  composing  the  latter  were,  many  of  them,  from  the 
region,  and  for  the  first  time  for  months  saw  their  mothers  and 
sisters.  These  went  quite  wild  at  sight  of  their  sons  and 
brothers.  They  laughed  and  cried,  and  on  the  appearance  of 
the  long  gray  column  instead  of  the  familiar  blue  coats  of  the 
Federal  cavalry,  they  clapped  their  hands  and  fell  into  ecstasies 
of  delight.  One  young  lady  was  seen  to  throw  her  arms  around 
a  brother  she  had  not  before  met  for  a  long  time,  bursting  into 
alternate  sobs  and  laughter. 

The  column  was  now  skirting  the  Pamunkey,  and  a  detach 
ment  hurried  off  to  seize  and  burn  two  or  three  transports  lying 
in  the  river.  Soon  a  dense  cloud  rose  from  them,  the  flames 
soared  up,  and  the  column  pushed  on.  Everywhere  were  seen 
the  traces  of  flight — for  the  alarm  of  "  hornets  in  the  hive  "  was 
given.  Wagons  had  turned  over,  and  were  abandoned — from 
others  the  excellent  army  stores  had  been  hastily  thrown.  This 
writer  got  a  fine  red  blanket,  and  an  excellent  pair  of  cavalry 
pantaloons,  for  which  he  still  owes  the  United  States.  Other 
things  lay  about  in  tempting  array,  but  we  were  approaching 
Tunstall's,  where  the  column  would  doubtless  make  a  charge ; 
and  to  load  down  a  weary  horse  was  injudicious.  The  advance 
guard  was  now  in  sight  of  the  railroad.  -There  was  no  question 
about  the  affair  before  us.  The  column  must  cut  through, 
whatever  force  guarded  the  railroad ;  to  reach  the  lowej  Chicka- 
hominy  the  guard  here  must  be  overpowered.  Now  was  the 
time  to  use  the  artillery,  and  every  effort  was  made  to  hurry  it 
forward.  But  alas!  it  had  got  into  a  tremendous  mudhole, 
and  the  wheels  were  buried  to  the  axle.  The  horses  were 
lashed,  and  jumped,  almost  breaking  the  traces ;  the  drivers 
swore;  the  harness  cracked — but  the  guns  did  not  move. 
"Gat!  Lieutenant,"  said  a  sergeant  of  Dutch  origin  to  the  brave 
Lieutenant  McGregor,  "  it  can't  be  done.  But  just  put  that  keg 
on  the  gun,  Lieutenant,"  pointing,  as  he  spoke,  to  a  keg  of  whiskey 
in  an  ambulance,  the  spoil  of  the  Federal  camp,  "and  tell  the 


182  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

men  they  can  have  it  if  they  only  pull  through!"  McGregor 
laughed,  and  the  keg  was  quickly  perched  on  the  gun.  Then 
took  place  an  exhibition  of  herculean  muscularity  which  would 
have  delighted  Guy  Livingston.  With  eyes  fixed  ardently  upon 
the  keg,  the  powerful  cannoneers  waded  into  the  mudhole  up  to 
their  knees,  seized  the  wheels  of  gun  and  caisson  loaded  down 
with  ammunition,  and  just  simply  lifted  the  whole  out,  and  put 
them  on  firm  ground.  The  piece  whirled  on — the  keg  had  been 
dismounted — the  cannoneers  revelled  in  the  spoils  they  had 
earned. 

Tunstall's  was  now  nearly  in  sight,  and  that  good  fellow 
Captain  Fraysbr,  afterward  Stuart's  signal  officer,  came  back 
and  reported  one  or  two  companies  of  infantry  at  the  railroad. 
Their  commander  had  politely  beckoned  to  him  as  he  recon 
noitred,  exclaiming  in  wheedling  accents,  full  of  Teutonic 
blandishment,  "  Koom  yay !  "  But  this  cordial  invitation  was 
disregarded ;  Frayser  galloped  back  and  reported,  and  the  ring 
ing  voice  of  Stuart  ordered  "  Form  platoons !  draw  sabre ! 
charge !  "  At  the  word  the  sabres  flashed,  a  thundering  shout 
arose,  and  sweeping  on  in  column  of  platoons,  the  gray  people 
fell  upon  their  blue  adversaries,  gobbling  them  up,  almost  with 
out  a  shot.  It  was  here  that  my  friend  Major  F—  -  got  the 
hideous  little  wooden  pipe  he  used  to  smoke  afterward.  He 
had  been  smoking  a  meerschaum  when  the  order  to  charge  was 
given ;  and  in  the  rush  of  the  horsemen,  dropped  and  lost  it. 
He  now  wished  to  smoke,  and  seeing  that  the  captain  of  the 
Federal  infantry  had  just  filled  his  pipe,  leaned  down  from  the 
saddle,  and  politely  requested  him  to  surrender  it. 

"  I  want  to  smoke  I  "  growled  the  Federal  captain. 

"  So  do  I,"  retorted  Major  F . 

"  This  pipe  is  my  property,"  said  the  captain. 

"  Oh  !  what  a  mistake  !  "  responded  the  major  politely,  as  he 
gently  took  the  small  affair  and  inserted  it  between  his  lips. 
Anything  more  hideous  than  the  carved  head  upon  it  I  never 
saw. 

The  men  swarmed  upon  the  railroad.  Quick  axes  were 
applied  to  the  telegraph  poles,  which  crashed  down,  and  Bed- 


STUART'S  "  BIDE  AROUND  M'CLELLAN."  183 

mond  Burke  went  in  command  of  a  detachment  to  burn  a  small 
bridge  on  the  railroad  near.  Suddenly  in  the  midst  of  the 
tumult  was  heard  the  shrill  whistle  of  a  train  coming  from  the 
direction  of  the  Chickahominy.  Stuart  quickly  drew  up  his 
men  in  a  line  on  the  side  of  the  road,  and  he  had  no  sooner  done 
so  than  the  train  came  slowly  round  a  wooded  bend,  and  bore 
down.  When  within  two  hundred  yards  it  was  ordered  to  halt, 
but  the  command  was  not  obeyed.  The  engineer  crowded  on  all 
steam ;  the  train  rushed  on,  and  then  a  thundering  volley  was 
opened  upon  the  "  flats "  containing  officers  and  men.  The 
engineer  was  shot  by  Captain  Farley,  of  Stuart's  staff,  and  a 
number  of  the  soldiers  were  wounded.  The  rest  threw  them 
selves  upon  their  faces  ;  the  train  rushed  headlong  by  like  some 
frightened  monster  bent  upon  escape,  and  in  an  instant  it  had 
disappeared. 

Stuart  then  reflected  for  a  single  moment.  The  question  was, 
should  he  go  back  and  attack  the  White  House,  where  enormous 
stores  were  piled  up  ?  It  was  tempting,  and  he  afterwards  told 
me  he  could  scarcely  resist  it.  But  a  considerable  force  of  infan 
try  was  posted  there ;  the  firing  had  doubtless  given  them  the 
alarm  ;  and  the  attempt  was  too  hazardous.  The  best  thing 
for  that  gray  column  was  to  set  their  faces  toward  home,  and 
"  keep  moving,"  well  closed  up  both  day  and  night,  for  the 
lower  Chickahominy.  So  Stuart  pushed  on.  Beyond  the  rail 
road  appeared  a  world  of  wagons,  loaded  with  grain  and  coffee — 
standing  in  the  road  abandoned.  Quick  work  was  made  of 
them.  They  were  all  set  on  fire,  and  their  contents  destroyed. 
From  the  horse- trough  of  one  I  rescued  a  small  volume  bearing 
on  the  fly-leaf  the  name  of  a  young  lady  of  Williamsburg.  I 
think  it  was  a  volume  of  poems — poetic  wagon-drivers  ! 

These  wagons  were  only  the  "vaunt  couriers" — the  advance 
guard — of  the  main  body.  In  a  field  beyond  the  stream  thirty 
acres  were  covered  with  them.  They  were  all  burned.  The 
roar  of  the  soaring  flames  was  like  the  sound  of  a  forest  on  fire. 
How  they  roared  and  crackled  !  The  sky  overhead,  when  night 
had  descended,  was  bloody- looking  in  the  glare. 

Meanwhile  the  main  column  had  moved  on,  and  I  was  riding 


184  'WEARING    OF  THE    GRAY. 

after  it,  when  I  heard  the  voice  of  Stuart  in  the  darkness 
exclaiming  with  strange  agitation  : 

"Who  is  here?" 

"  I  am,"  I  answered ;  and  as  he  recognised  my  voice  he  ex 
claimed  : 

"  Good  !  where  is  Kooney  Lee  ?  " 

"  I  think  he  has  moved  on,  General." 

"  Do  you  know  it  ?  "  came  in  the  same  agitated  tone. 

"  ISTo,  but  I  believe  it." 

"  Will  you  swear  to  it  ?  I  must  know !  He  may  take  the 
wrong  road,  and  the  column  will  get  separated  !  " 

"  I  will  ascertain  if  he  is  in  front." 

"  Well,  do  so  ;  but  take  care — you  will  be  captured !  "  , 

I  told  the  General  I  would  "  gallop  on  for  ever  till  I  found 
him,"  but  I  had  not  gone  two  hundred  yards  in  the  darkness 
when  hoof-strokes  in  front  were  heard,  and  I  ordered : 

"  Halt !  who  goes  there  ?  " 

"  Courier,  from  Colonel  William  Lee." 

"Is  he  in  front?" 

"  About  a  mile,  sir." 

"  Good !  "  exclaimed  the  voice  of  Stuart,  who  had  galloped  up ; 
and  I  never  heard  in  human  accents  such  an  expression  of  relief. 
If  the  reader  of  this  has  ever  commanded  cavalry,  moving  at 
night  in  an  enemy's  country,  he  will  understand  why  Stuart 
drew  that  long,  deep  breath,  and  uttered  that  brief  word, 
"  Good !  "  Once  separated  from  the  main  column  and  lost — 
good-by  then  to  Colonel  Lee  ! 

Pushing  on  by  large  hospitals  which  were  not  interfered  with, 
we  reached  at  midnight  the  three  or  four  houses  known  as  Tal- 
leysville  ;  and  here  a  halt  was  ordered  to  rest  men  and  horses,  and 
permit  the  artillery  to  come  up.  This  pause  was  fatal  to  a  sut 
ler's  store  from  which  the  owners  had  fled.  It  was  remorselessly 
ransacked  and  the  edibles  consumed.  This  historian  ate  in  suc 
cession  figs,  beef-tongue,  pickle,  candy,  tomato  catsup,  pre 
serves,  lemons,  cakes,  sausages,  molasses,  crackers,  and  canned 
meats.  In  presence  of  these  attractive  commodities  the  spirits 
of  many  rose.  Those  who  in  the  morning  had  made  me  laugh 


STUART'S  "BIDE  AROUND  M'CLELLAN."  185 

by  saying,  "  General  Stuart  is  going  to  get  his  command 
destroyed — this  movement  is  mad,"  now  regarded  Stuart  as  the 
first  of  men  ;  the  raid  as  a  feat  of  splendour  and  judicious  daring 
which  could  not  fail  in  terminating  successfully.  Such  is  the 
difference  in  the  views  of  the  military  machine,  unfed  and  fed. 

III. 

In  an  hour  the  column  moved  again.  Meanwhile  a  little  inci 
dent  had  happened  which  still  makes  me  laugh.  There  was  a 
lady  living  some  miles  off  in  the  enemy's  line  whom  I  wished 
to  visit,  but  I  could  not  obtain  the  General's  consent.  "It  is 
certain  capture,"  he  said;  "send  her  a  note  by  some  citizen,  say 

Dr.  H ;  he  lives  near  here."  This  I  determined  to  do,  and 

set  off  at  a  gallop  through  the  moonlight  for  the  house,  some 
half  a  mile  distant,  looking  out  for  the  scouting  parties  which 
were  probably  prowling  on  our  flanks.  Eeaching  the  lonely 
house,  outside  the  pickets,  I  dismounted,  knocked  at  the  front 
door,  then  the  back,  but  received  no  answer.  All  at  once,  how 
ever,  a  dark  figure  was  seen  gliding  beneath  the  trees,  and  this 
figure  cautiously  approached.  I  recognised  the  Doctor,  and 
called  to  him,  whereupon  he  quickly  approached,  and  said,  "  I 
thought  you  were  a  Yankee !  "  and  greeting  me  cordially,  led 
the  way  into  the  house.  Here  I  wrote  my  note  and  entrusted  it 
to  him  for  delivery — taking  one  from  him  to  his  wife,  within  our 
lines.  In  half  an  hour  I  rode  away,  but  before  doing  so  asked 
for  some  water,  which  was  brought  from  the  well  by  a  sleepy, 
sullen,  and  insolent  negro.  This  incident  was  fruitful  of  woes  to 
Dr.  H—  -  !  A  month  or  two  afterwards  I  met  him  looking  as 
thin  and  white  as  a  ghost. 

"  What  is  the  matter?  "  I  said. 

"  The  matter  is,"  he  replied,  with  a  melancholy  laugh,  "  that  I 
have  been  starving  for  three  weeks  in  Fortress  Monroe  on  your 
account.  Do  you  remember  that  servant  who  brought  you  the 
water  that  night  on  Stuart's  raid  ? " 

"Perfectly." 

"  Well,  the  very  next  day  he  went  over  to  the  Yankee  picket 


186  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

and  told  them  that  I  had  entertained  Confederate  officers,  and 
given  you  all  information  which  enabled  you  to  get  off  safely. 
In  consequence  I  was  arrested,  carried  to  Old  Point,  and  am 
just  out! " 

I  rejoined  the  column  at  Talleysville  just  as  it  began  to  move 
on  the  road  to  Forge  Bridge.  The  highway  lay  before  us,  white 
in  the  unclouded  splendour  of  the  moon.  The  critical  moment 
was  yet  to  come.  Our  safety  was  to  turn  apparently  on  a  throw 
of  the  dice,  rattled  in  the  hand  of  Chance.  The  exhaustion  of 
the  march  now  began  to  tell  on  the  men.  Whole  companies 
went  to  sleep  in  the  saddle,  and  Stuart  himself  was  no  exception. 
He  had  thrown  one  knee  over  the  pommel  of  his  saddle,  folded 
his  arms,  dropped  the  bridle,  and — chin  on  breast,  his  plumed 
hat  drooping  over  his  forehead — was  sound  asleep.  His  sure 
footed  horse  moved  steadily,  but  the  form  of  the  General  tot 
tered  from  side  to  side,  and  for  miles  I  held  him  erect  by  the 
arm.  The  column  thus  moved  on  during  the  remainder  of  the 
night,  the  wary  advance  guard  encountering  no  enemies  and 
giving  no  alarm.  At  the  first  streak  of  dawn  the  Chickahominy 
was  in  sight,  and  Stuart  was  spurring  forward  to  the  ford. 

It  was  impassable!  The  heavy  rains  had  so  swollen  the 
waters  that  the  crossing  was  utterly  impracticable !  Here  we 
were  within  a  few  miles  of  McClellan's  army,  with  an  enraged 
enemy  rushing  on  our  track  to  make  us  rue  the  day  we  had 
" circumvented"  them,  and  inflicted  on  them  such  injury  and 
insult;  here  we  were  with  a  swollen  and  impassable  stream 
directly  in  our  front — the  angry  waters  roaring  around  the  half- 
submerged  trunks  of  the  trees — and  expecting  every  instant  to 
hear  the  crack  of  carbines  from  the  rear-guard  indicating  the 
enemy's  approach!  The  "situation"  was  not  pleasing.  I  cer 
tainly  thought  that  the  enemy  would  be  upon  us  in  about  an 
hour,  and  death  or  capture  would  be  the  sure  alternative.  This 
view  was  general.  I  found  that  cool  and  resolute  officer,  Colonel 
William  H.  F.  Lee,  on  the  river's  bank.  He  had  just  attempted 
to  swim  the  river,  and  nearly  drowned  his  horse  among  the 
tangled  roots  and  snags.  I  said  to  him  : 

"What  do  you  think  of  the  situation,  Colonel? " 


STUART'S  "RIDE  AROUND  M'CLELLAN."  187 

"Well,  Captain,"  was  the  reply,  in  the  speaker's  habitual  tone 
of  cheerful  courtesy,  "I  think  we  are  caught." 

The  men  evidently  shared  this  sentiment.  The  scene  upon 
the  river's  bank  was  curious,  and  under  other  circumstances 
would  have  been  laughable.  The  men  lay  about  in  every  atti 
tude,  half-overcome  with  sleep,  but  holding  their  bridles,  and 
ready  to  mount  at  the  first  alarm.  Others  sat  their  horses 
asleep,  with  drooping  shoulders.  Some  gnawed  crackers  ;  others 
ate  figs,  or  smoked,  or  yawned.  Things  looked  "blue,"  and 
that  colour  was  figuratively  spread  over  every  countenance. 
When  this  writer  assumed  a  gay  expression  of  countenance, 
laughed,  and  told  the  men  it  was  "  all  right,"  they  looked  at  him 
as  sane  men  regard  a  lunatic !  The  general  conviction  evidently 
was  that  "  all  right "  was  the  very  last  phrase  by  which  to 
describe  the  situation. 

There  was  only  one  man  who  never  desponded,  or  bated  one 
"jot  or  tittle  of  the  heart  of  hope."  That  was  Stuart.  I  had 
never  been  with  him  in  a  tight  place  before,  but  from  that  mo 
ment  I  felt  convinced  that  he  was  one  of  those  men  who  rise 
under  pressure.  He  was  aroused,  strung  for  the  hard  struggle 
before  him,  and  resolute  to  do  or  die  ;  but  he  was  not  excited.  All 
I  noticed  in  his  bearing  to  attract  attention  was  a  peculiar  fash 
ion  of  twisting  his  beard,  certain  proof  with  him  of  surround 
ing  peril.  Otherwise  he  was  cool  and  looked  dangerous.  He 
said  a  few  words  to  Colonel  Lee,  found  the  ford  impassable,  and 
then  ordering  his  column  to  move  on,  galloped  down  the  stream 
to  a  spot  where  an  old  bridge  had  formerly  stood.  Beaching 
this  point,  a  strong  rear-guard  was  thrown  out,  the  artil 
lery  placed  in  position,  and  Stuart  set  to  work  vigorously  to 
rebuild  the  bridge,  determined  to  bring  out  his  guns  or  die 
trying. 

The  bridge  had  been  destroyed,  but  the  stone  abutments  re 
mained  some  thirty  or  forty  feet  only  apart,  for  the  river  here  ran 
deep  and  narrow  between  steep  banks.  Between  these  stone  sen 
tinels,  facing  each  other,  was  an  "aching  void  "  which  it  was  neces 
sary  to  fill.  Stuart  gave  his  personal  superintendence  to  the  work, 
he  and  his  staff  labouring  with  the  men.  A  skiff  was  procured  ; 


188  WEARING  OF  THE   GKAf . 

this  was  affixed  by  a  rope  to  a  tree,  in  the  mid-current  just 
above  the  abutments,  and  thus  a  movable  pier  was  secured  in 
the  middle  of  the  stream.  An  old  barn  was  then  hastily  torn 
to  pieces  and  robbed  of  its  timbers ;  these  were  stretched  down 
to  the  boat,  and  up  to  the  opposite  abutment,  and  a  foot-bridge 
was  thus  ready.  Large  numbers  of  the  men  immediately  un 
saddled  their  horses,  took  their  equipments  over,  and  then 
returning,  drove  or  rode  their  horses  into  the  stream,  and  swam 
them  over.  In  this  manner  a  considerable  number  crossed ;  but 
the  process  was  much  too  slow.  There,  besides,  was  the  artil 
lery,  which  Stuart  had  no  intention  of  leaving.  A  regular 
bridge  must  be  built  without  a  moment's  delay,  and  to  this 
work  Stuart  now  applied  himself  with  ardour.  , 

Heavier  blows  resounded  from  the  old  barn  ;  huge  timbers 
approached,  borne  on  brawny  shoulders,  and  descending  into  the 
boat  anchored  in  the  middle  of  the  stream,  the  men  lifted  them 
across.  They  were  just  long  enough  ;  the  ends  rested  on  the 
abutments,  and  immediately  thick  planks  were  hurried  forward 
and  laid  crosswise,  forming  a  secure  footway  for  the  cavalry  and 
artillery  horses.  Standing  in-  the  boat  beneath,  Stuart  worked 
with  the  men,  and  as  the  planks  thundered  down,  and  the 
bridge  steadily  advanced,  the  gay  voice  of  the  General  was 
heard  humming  a  song.  He  was  singing  carelessly,  although  at 
every  instant  an  overpowering  force  of  the  enemy  was  looked 
for,  and  a  heavy  attack  upon  the  disordered  cavalry. 

At  last  the  bridge  was  finished ;  the  artillery  crossed  amid 
hurrahs  from  the  men,  and  then  Stuart  slowly  moved  his  cavalry 
across  the  shaky  footway,  A  little  beyond  was  another  arm  of 
the  river,  which  was,  however,  fordable,  as  I  ascertained  and 
reported  to  the  General ;  the  water  j.ust  deep  enough  to  swim  a 
small  horse ;  and  through  this,  as  through  the  interminable 
sloughs  of  the  swamp  beyond,  the  head  of  the  column  moved. 
The  prisoners,  who  were  numerous,  had  been  marched  over  in 
advance  of  everything,  and  these  were  now  mounted  on  mules, 
of  which  several  hundred  had  been  cut  from  the  captured 
wagons  and  brought  along.  They  were  started  under  an  escort 
across  the  ford,  and  into  the  swamp  beyond.  Here,  mounted 


STUART'S  "RIDE  ABOUND  M'CLELLAN."  189 

often  two  on  a  mule,  they  had  a  disagreeable  time ;  the  mules 
constantly  falling  in  the  treacherous  mud-holes,  and  rolling  their 
riders  in  the  ooze.  When  a  third  swamp  appeared  before  them, 
one  of  the  Federal  prisoners  exclaimed,  with  tremendous  indig 
nation,  u  How  many  d — d  Chwken-homimQS  are  there,  I  wonder, 
in  this  infernal  country  !  " 

The  rear-guard,  under  Colonel  "W.  H.  F.  Lee,  had  meanwhile 
moved  down  steadily  from  the  high  ground,  and  defiled  across 
the  bridge.  The  hoofs  clattered  on  the  hasty  structure,  the 
head  of  the  column  was  turned  toward  the  ford  beyond,  the  last 
squadron  had  just  passed,  and  the  bridge  was  being  destroyed, 
when  shots  resounded  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the  stream,  and 
Colonel  Kush  thundered  down  with  his  "  lancers  "  to  the  bank. 
He  was  exactly  ten  minutes  too  late.  Stuart  was  over  with  his 
artillery,  and  the  swollen  stream  barred  the  way,  even  if  Colonel 
Bush  thought  it  prudent  to  "  knock  up  against "  the  one  thou 
sand  five  hundred  crack  cavalry  of  Stuart.  His  men  banged 
away  at  Colonel  Lee,  and  a  parting  salute  whizzed  through  the 
trees  as  the  gray  column  slowly  disappeared. 

A  lady  of  New  Kent  afterwards  told  me  that  Colonel  Kush 
stopped  at  her  house  on  his  return,  looking  weary,  broken  down, 
and  out  of  humour.  When  she  asked  him  if  he  had  "  caught 
Stuart,"  he  replied,  "  No,  he  has  gone  in  at  the  back  door.  I 
only  saw  his  rear-guard  as  it  passed  the  swamp." 


IY. 

Stuart  had  thus  eluded  his  pursuers,  and  was  over  the  Chicka- 
hominy  in  the  hospitable  county  of  Charles  City.  The  gentle 
men  of  the  county,  we  afterwards  heard,  had  been  electrified  by 
the  rumour  that  "  Stuart  was  down  at  the  river  trying  to  get 
across,"  and  had  built  a  hasty  bridge  for  us  lower  down.  We 

were  over,  however,  and  reaching  Mr.  C 's,  the  General  and 

his  staff  lay  down  on  a  carpet  spread  on  the  grass  in  the  June 
sunshine,  and  went  to  sleep.  This  was  Sunday.  I  had  not 
slept  since  Friday  night,  except  by  snatches  in  the  saddle, 


190  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

and  in  going  on  to  Eichmond  afterwards  fell  asleep  every  few 
minutes  on  horseback. 

Two  hours  of  slumber,  however,  made  Stuart  as  fresh  as  a 

lark  •  and  having  eaten  Mr.  C very  nearly  out  of  house  and 

home,  we  pushed  on  all  day.  At  night  the  column  stopped, 
and  I  thought  the  General  would  stop  too ;  but  he  said,  "  I  am 
going  to  [Richmond  to-night ;  would  you  like  to  ride  with  me?  " 
I  was  obliged  to  decline  ;  my  horse  was  worn  out.  Stuajt  set  out 
by  himself,  rode  all  night,  and  before  daylight  had  passed  over 
the  thirty  miles.  An  hour  afterwards  General  Lee  and  the 
President  knew  the  result  of  his  expedition.  The  cavalry 
returned  on  the  same  day,  moving  slowly  in  front  of  the  gun 
boats,  which  fired  upon  them ;  but  no  harm  was  done.  Rich 
mond  was  reached ;  and  amid  an  ovation  from  delighted  friends 
•we  all  went  to  sleep. 

Such  was  Stuart's  ride  around  McClellan's  army  in  those 
summer  days  of  1862.  The  men  who  went  with  him  look  back 
to  it  as  the  most  romantic  and  adventurous  incident  of  the  war. 
It  was  not  indeed  so  much  a  military  expedition  as  a  raid  of 
romance — a  "  scout "  of  Stuart's  with  fifteen  hundred  horsemen  ! 
It  was  the  conception  of  a  bold  and  brilliant  mind,  and  the 
execution  was  as  fearless.  "  That  was  the  most  dangerous  of  all 
my  expeditions,"  the  General  said  to  me  long  afterwards;  "if I 
had  not  succeeded  in  crossing  the  Chickahominy,  I  would  have 
been  ruined,  as  there  was  no  way  of  getting  out."  The  Emperor 
Napoleon,  a  good  soldier,  took  this  view  of  it ;  when  tracing  out 
on  the  map  Stuart's  route  from  Taylorsville  by  Old  Church  to 
the  lower  Chickahominy,  he  characterized  the  movement  as  that 
of  a  cavalry  officer  of  the  first  distinction.  This  criticism  was 
only  just,  and  the  raid  will  live  in  history  for  three  reasons: 

1.  It  taught  the  enemy  "the  trick,"  and   showed  them  the 
meaning  of  the  words  "  cavalry  raid."    What  General  Kilpatrick, 
Sheridan,  and  others  afterwards  effected,  was  the  work  of  the 
pupil  following  the  master. 

2.  It  was  on  a  magnificent  arena,  to  which  the  eyes  of  the 
whole  world  were  attracted  at  the  time ;  and, 

3.  In  consequence  of  the  information  which  Stuart  furnished, 


191 

Gen.  Lee,  a  fortnight  afterwards,  attacked  and  defeated  General 
McClellan. 

These  circumstances  give  a  very  great  interest  to  all  the  inci 
dents  of  the  movement.  I  hope  the  reader  has  not  been  wearied 
by  my  minute  record  of  them.  To  the  old  soldiers  of  Stuart 
there  is  a  melancholy  pleasure  in  recalling  the  gay  scenes  amid 
which  he  moved,  the  exploits  which  he  performed,  the  hard  work 
he  did.  He  is  gone ;  but  even  in  memory  it  is  something  to 
again  follow  his  feather. 


II. 

STUART  ON  THE  OUTPOST. 


A  SCENE   AT  CAMP  QUI   VIVE. 
I. 

SOMETIMES,  in  dreams  as  it  were,  the  present  writer — like  many 
others,  doubtless — goes  back  in  memory  across  the  gulf  of  years 
to  1861,  recalling  its  great  scenes  and  personages,  and  living 
once  more  in  that  epoch  full  of  such  varied  and  passionate  emo 
tions.  Manassas !  Centreville  !  Fairfax !  Vienna  ! — what  memo 
ries  do  those  names  excite  in  the  hearts  of  the  old  soldiers  of 
Beauregard !  That  country,  now  so  desolate,  was  then  a  virgin 
land,  untouched  by  the  foot  of  war.  The  hosts  who  were  to 
trample  it  still  lingered  upon  the  banks  of  the  Potomac  ;  and  the 
wildest  fancy  could  not  have  prefigured  its  fate.  It  was  a  smil 
ing  country,  full  of  joy  and  beauty — the  domain  of  "  ancient 
peace ;"  and  of  special  attraction  were  the  little  villages,  sleeping 
like  Centreville  in  the  hollow  of  green  hills,  or  perched  like 
Fairfax  on  the  summit  of  picturesque  uplands.  These  were  old 
Virginia  hamlets,  full  of  recollections ;  here  the  feet  of  Mason 
and  Washington  had  trod,  and  here  had  grown  up  generation 
after  generation  ignorant  of  war.  Peace  reigned  supreme  ;  the 
whole  landscape  was  the  picture  of  repose ;  the  villages,  amid 
the  foliage  of  their  elms  or  oaks,  slept  like  birds  that  have  nestled 
down  to  rest  amid  the  grass  and  blossoms  of  the  green  spring 
fields.  . 


STUART  ON  THE   OUTPOST.  193 

Look  first  upon  that  picture,  then  on  this ! — the  picture  of  a 
region  blasted  by  the  hot  breath  of  war.  Where  now  was  the 
joy  of  the  past  ?  where  the  lovely  land  once  smiling  in  fresh 
beauty,  and  the  charm  of  peaceful  years?  All  the  flowers  and 
sunshine  had  disappeared.  The  springing  grasses,  the  budding 
forests,  the  happy  dwellings — all  had  vanished.  Over  the  smil 
ing  fields  the  hoofs  of  cavalry  had  trampled ;  the  woods  had 
been  cut  down  to  furnish  fuel  for  the  camp  fires  ;  the  fences  had 
preceded  them  ;  the  crops  and  forage  had  been  gleaned  for  the 
horses  of  the  troopers.  The  wheels  of  artillery  and  army  trains 
had  worn  the  roads  into  ruts  and  quagmires  ;  opposing  columns 
had  advanced  or  retreated  over  every  foot  of  ground,  leaving 
their  traces  everywhere ;  those  furrows  over  which  the  broom- 
straw  waved  in  the  winter  wind,  or  the  spring  flowers  nodded  in 
the  airs  of  May,  were  ploughed  by  cannon-balls. 

The  war-dogs  had  bayed  here,  and  torn  to  pieces  house  and 
field  and  forest.  The  villages  were  the  forlorn  ghosts  of  them 
selves,  and  seemed  to  look  at  you  out  of  those  vacant  eyes,  their 
open  windows,  with  a  sort  of  dumb  despair.  They  were  the 
eloquent  monuments  of  the  horrors  of  war — the  veritable 
"  abodes  of  owls."  Had  a  raven  croaked  from  the  dead  trees 
riven  by  cannon-balls,  or  a  wolf  growled  at  you  from  the 
deserted  houses,  you  would  have  felt  not  the  least  astonishment. 
As  you  passed  through  those  villages,  once  so  smiling,  the  tramp 
of  the  cavalry  horses,  or  the  rumbling  wheels  of  the  artillery, 
made  the  echoes  resound ;  and  a  few  heads  were  thrust  from  the 
paneless  windows.  Then  they  disappeared  ;  silence  settled  down 
again,  and  the  melancholy  hamlet  gave  place  to  the  more 
melancholy  fields.  Here  all  was  waste  and  desolate  ;  no  woods, 
no  fences,  no  human  face ;  only  torn-down  and  dismantled 
houses,  riddled  with  bullets,  or  charred  by  the  ttrch  of  war. 
The  land  seemed  doomed,  and  to  rest  under  a  curse.  That 
Federal  vedette  yonder,  as  we  advance,  is  the  only  living  object 
we  behold,  and  even  he  disappears  like  a  phantom.  Can  this, 
you  murmur,  be  the  laughing  land  of  yesterday,  the  abode  of 
peace,  and  happiness,  and  joy  ?  Can  this  be  Fairfax,  where  the 
fields  of  wheat  once  rolled  their  golden  waves  in  the  summer 

13 


194  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

wind,  and  the  smiling  houses  held  out  arms  of  welcome  ?  Look ! 
it  has  become  a  veritable  Golgotha — the  "  place  of  skulls  " — a 
sombre  Jehoshaphat  full  of  dead  men's  bones  ! 

I  remember  all  that,  and  shall  ever  remember  it ;  but  in  con 
trast  with  these  scenes  06  ruin  and  desolation,  come  back  a 
thousand  memories,  gay,  joyous,  and  instinct  with  mirth.  The 
hard  trade  of  war  is  not  all  tragedy  ;  let  us  laugh,  friends,  when 
we  can ;  there  are ,  smiles  as  well  as  tears,  comedy  as  well  as 
tragedy,  in  the  great  and  exciting  drama.  You  don't  weep 
much  when  the  sword  is  in  the  hand.  You  fight  hard  ;  and  if 
you  do  not  fall,  you  laugh,  and  even  dance,  perhaps — if  you  can 
get  some  music — by  the  camp  fire.  It  is  a  scene  of  this  descrip 
tion  which  I  wish  to  describe  to-day.  This  morning  it  came 
back  to  my  memory  in  such  vivid  colours  that  I  thought,  if  I 
could  paint  it,  some  of  my  readers  would  be  interested.  It 
took  place  in  autumn  of  the  gay  year  1861,  when  Johnston 
and  Beauregard  were  holding  the  lines  of  Centreville  against 
McClellan  ;  and  when  Stuart,  that  pearl  of  cavaliers,  was  in 
command  of  the  front,  which  he  guarded  with  his  cavalry.  In 
their  camps  at  Centreville,  the  infantry  and  artillery  of  the 
army  quietly  enjoyed  the  bad  weather  which  forbade  all  military 
movements  ;  but  the  cavalry,  that  "  eye  and  ear  "  of  an  army, 
were  still  in  face  of  the  enemy,  and  had  constant  skirmishes 
below  Fairfax,  out  toward  Vienna,  and  al<*ng  the  front  near  the 
little  hamlet  of  Annandale. 

How  well  I  remember  all  those  scenes!  and  I  think  if  I  had 
space  I  could  tell  some  interesting  stories  of  that  obstinate^>e^Ye- 
guerre  of  picket  fighting — how  the  gray  and  blue  coats  fought  for 
the  ripe  fruit  in  an  orchard  just  between  them,  all  a  winter's 
afternoon ;  how  Farley  waylaid,  with  three  men,  the  whole  column 
of  General  Bayard,  and  attacked  it ;  and  how  a  brave  boy  fell  one 
day  in  a  fight  of  pickets,  and  was  brought  back  dead,  wrapped 
in  the  brilliant  oil-cloth  which  his  sister  took  from  her  piano 
and  had  sent  to  him  to  sleep  upon. 

But  these  recollections  would  not  interest  you  as  they  interest 
me.  They  fade,  and  I  come  back  to  my  immediate  subject — 
a  visit  to  General  "  Jeb  Stuart"  at  his  headquarters,  near  Fair- 


STUART  ON  THE   OUTPOST.  195 

fax  Court- House,  where,  in  this  December  of  1861, 1  saw  the  gay- 
cavalier  and  his  queer  surroundings. 

Stuart  was  already  famous  from  his  raids  against  General  Pat 
terson  in  the  Valley.  He  had  harassed  that  commander  so  per 
sistently — driving  in  his  pickets,  getting  in  rear  of  his  camps, 
and  cutting  off  his  foraging  parties — that  Johnston  said  of  him : 
"He  is  worse  than  a  yellow-jacket — they  no  sooner  brush  him  off 
than  he  lights  back  again."  Indefatigable  in  reconnoissance, 
sleepless  in  vigilance,  possessed  of  a  physical  strength  which 
defied  fatigue  and  enabled  him  to  pass  whole  days  and  nights  in 
the  saddle,  Stuart  became  the  evil  genius  of  the  invading  column ; 
and  long  afterwards,  when  transferred  to  the  West,  General 
Johnston  wrote  to  him :  "  How  can  I  eat,  sleep,  or  rest  in  peace, 
without  you  upon  the  outpost ! "  From  the  Valley  he  came  to 
Manassas,  charged  the  Zouaves  there,  and  then  was  made  a  Bri 
gadier-General  and  put  in  command  of  the  cavalry  of  the  army 
which  held  the  front  toward  Alexandria.  It  is  at  this  time, 
December,  1861,  that  I  present  him  to  the  reader. 

Go  back  with  me  to  that  remote  period,  and  you  shall  have 
no  fancy  sketch,  or  "  dignified"  picture  of  a  General  command 
ing,  but  the  actual  portrait  of  the  famous  General  "  Jeb  Stuart" 
in  the  midst  of  his  military  household. 


II. 

I  found  the  cavalry  headquarters  at  an  old  house  known  as 
Mellen's,  but  officially  as  "  Camp  Qui  Vive,  "between  Centreville 
and  Fairfax  Court-House. 

It  was  a  day  of  December ;  the  sun  shone  brightly,  the  frosty 
airs  cut  the  cheek.  The  house  was  bare  and  bleak ;  everything 
about  it  "  looked  like  work."  Horses  were  picketed  to  the 
fences  and  trees,  couriers  went  and  came  with  jingling  spurs  and 
clanking  sabres,  and  the  bugle  sounded  the  gay  "  stable-call." 
Before  the  door,  the  red  battle-flag,  just  adopted,  ripples  in  the 
wind  ;  and  not  far  from  it  you  see  the  grim  muzzle  of  a  Blakely 
gun,  for  Stuart  is  devoted  to  artillery,  and  fights  it  whenever  he 


196  WEAKING    OF  THE    GRAY. 

can.  You  may  regard  that  gun  as  a  somewhat  unusual  feature 
of  a  cavalry  camp  upon  the  outpost,  but  the  sentinel  placed  over 
it  to  guard  it  is  still  queerer.  It  is  nothing  less  than  an  enor 
mous  raccoon — black,  wary,  with  snarling  teeth,  and  eyes  full  of 
"  fight !  "  Look  at  him  for  a  moment  as  you  pass.  He  is  tied 
by  a  rope  around  his  neck  to  the  trail  by  the  lunettes,  and  roosts 
serenely  on  the  pintal-hook.  When  he  stretches  his  rope  he  can 
run  over  the  rings  for  the  trail  handspike  and  the  prolonge,  to 
the  cascabel  and  brass  base,  for  the  pendulum  hausse.  His  natu 
ral  line  of  sight,  however,  is  between  the  spokes  of  the  limber- 
wheels,  and  he  has  a  box  to  go  in  when  he  is  tired. 

The  sentinel  is  evidently  aware  of  his  duty,  for  he  snaps  at 
everybody.  You  will  find,  when  General  Stuart  comes  out 
laughing  to  show  him  to  you,  that  his  owner  regards  him  as  the* 
pearl  of  sentinels,  the  paragon  of  "coons." 

It  was  sunset  as  I  entered,  and  amid  a  gay  group  I  saw  the 
young  General  of  cavalry.  Fancy  a  man  of  low  stature  and 
athletic  form,  with  an  enormous  brown  beard ;  a  huge  moustache, 
ready  to  curl  with  laughter ;  a  broad  and  lofty  forehead ;  an  eye, 
blue,  brilliant,  and  penetrating  as  that  of  the  eagle.  This  figure 
was  clad  in  a  gray  cavalry  uniform,  top-boots  with  small  bright 
spurs;  and  on  a  chair  lay  his  sabre  and  pistol,  beside  the  brown 
felt  hat  looped  up  and  adorned  with  a  black  feather. 

In  this  man  who  wrote  away  busily  at  his  desk,  or,  throwing 
one  leg  carelessly  ove"r  the  arm  of  his  chair,  turned  to  utter  some 
jest  or  break  out  in  some  snatch  of  song,  you  could  discern  enor 
mous  physical  strength — a  vigour  of  constitution  which  made  him 
a  veritable  war-machine.  This  person,  it  was  plain,  cared  noth 
ing  for  the  exhausting  work  which  breaks  down  other  men ;  could 
live  in  the  saddle,  and  was  ever  ready  for  a  march,  a  raid,  a 
charge — anything.  Young — he  was  then  but  twenty-seven— 
ardent,  ambitious,  gay,  jovial,  of  immense  unbounded  animal 
spirits,  with  that  clear,  blue  eye  whose  glance  defies  all  peril,  a 
seat  in  the  saddle,  and  a  hand  for  the  rein  and  the  sabre  unsur 
passed,  Stuart  was  truly  a  splendid  machine  in  magnificent 
order,  and  plainly  asked  nothing  better  than  to  "clash  against 
his  foe"  and  either  fall  or  conquer.  All  this  was  evident  in  the 


STUART  ON  THE   OUTPOST.  197 

man  before  me,  with  that  bronzed  cheek,  athletic  figure,  and  eye 
ready  to  fill  full  with  laughter,  or  flash  at  the  thought  of  battle. 
In  Stuart  I  saw  a  cavalier  whom  Rupert  would  have  made  his 
bosom  friend,  and  counted  on  to  charge  the  pikes  of  the  Iron 
sides,  and  "  die  for  King  Charles  "  without  a  murmur. 

Gayest  of  the  gay  was  Stuart's  greeting,  and  in  five  minutes 
he  had  started  up,  put  on  his  hat,  and  was  showing  me  his 
Blakely  gun,  then  a  recent  acquisition.  His  satisfaction  at  the 
ferocious  snarling  of  his  "  coon  "  was  immense  ;  the  incorrupti 
ble  fidelity  of  that  black  sentinel  plainly  charmed  him,  and  he 
made  the  place  echo  with  his  laughter. 

I  was  truly  sorry  to  hear  afterwards  that  this  animal,  so 
trusted  and  admired — who  had  at  ]ast  become  like  a  member  of 
the  staff — betrayed  a  low  dissatisfaction  at  short  rations,  and 
gnawing  in  two  the  rope  which  confined  him,  actually  deserted, 
and  was  never  more  seen  ! 

As  night  fell  we  reentered  the  house ;  a  table  was  brought 
into  the  bare  room  for  supper ;  and  then  to  my  astonishment — 
enter  two  ladies !  I  thought  the  house  entirely  unoccupied 
except  by  the  gay  cavalier  and  his  "  following ;  "  but  here  was  a 
delegation  from  the  fairer  half  of  humanity.  Who  were  they  ? 
How  did  they  come  there  ?  How  did  that  little  flower  of  seven 
teen,  with  the  rosy  cheeks  and  the  soft,  blue  eyes,  come  to  bloom 
on  this  hot  surface  of  war,  amid  the  rattle  of  spurs  and  sabres  ? 

All  these  questions  were  speedily  answered  by  General  Stuart. 
The  beautiful  girl  of  seventeen,  and  her  grim,  irate  companion, 
an  elderly  lady,  were  "  prisoners  of  war !  "  On  the  preceding 
evening  they  had — after  making  vain  applications  for  a  pass — 
attempted  to  " flank  the  pickets"  of  Stuart,  and  steal  through 
his  lines  to  Alexandria.  Now,  as  General  McClellan  was  sojourn 
ing  with  a  large  escort  near  that  place,  and  would  doubtless  be 
glad  to  ascertain  a  number  of  things  in  relation  to  Beauregard, 
Stuart  had  "refused  the  pass.  When  the  fugitives  attempted  to 
elude  his  pickets  they  were  caught,  forwarded  to  headquarters, 
and  there  they  were. 

The  young  ladj-  was  smiling,  the  elder  frowning  terribly. 
The  one  evidently  admired  the  gallant  Stuart,  with  his  bright, 


198  WEARING   OF   THE    GRAY. 

blue  eye  and  floating  plume,  regarding  the  whole  affair  as  a 
romantic  adventure,  to  be  enjoyed,  not  regretted;  the  other  as 
plainly  resented  the  liberty  taken  with  her  movements,  and  was 
determined  to  preserve  a  grim,  forbidding,  and  hostile  attitude — 
that  of  the  martyr  overwhelmed,  but  defiant  to  the  last.  I  saw 
all  this  at  a  glance,  and  then  I  understood  as  plainly,  in  a  very 
few  moments,  that  General  Stuart  had  determined  to  charm 
away,  if  possible,  the  evil  spirit  of  hostility  in  the  hearts  of  his 
fair  prisoners,  and  reconcile  them  to  their  fate. 

He  lost  no  time  in  this  hospitable  work.  It  was  delightful, 
and  laughable  too,  to  watch  him.  Never  did  gallant  cavalier 
demean  himself  with  more  profound  and  respectful  courtesy, 
with  which,  however,  was  mingled  that  easy  off-hand  fun  which 
never  left  Stuart.  In  the  first  advance  he  had  been  repulsed* 
The  ladies  had  been  up-stairs  when  I  arrived,  and  the  General 
had  sent  up  his  compliments :  "  Would  they  come  down  to  sup 
per  ?"  The  reply  was,  "  No,  I  thank  you ;  we  are  not  hungry." 
Whereupon  that  politest  of  Marylanders,  Captain  Tiernan  Brien, 
A.A.G.,  was  dispatched — assault  number  two — and,  under  the 
effect  of  his  blandishments,  the  fair  enemy  gave  way.  They 
appeared,  the  young  lady  blushing  and  smiling;  the  elder  stern 
arid  stormy.  Stuart  received  them,  as  I  have  said,  with  charm 
ing  courtesy  and  frankness ;  compelled  them  to  take  part  in  his 
supper,  and  then,  although,  as  very  soon  appeared,  he  had  a 
great  deal  of  work  to  do,  did  not  suffer  them  to  depart  to  their 
room. 

They  were  not  to  be  allowed  to  mope  there  all  the  winter 
evening.  Music,  dance,  and  song  were  to  while  away  the  hours 
— so  Stuart  sent  for  three  members  of  his  military  household, 
and  they  soon  appeared.  All  were  black.  The  first  was  an 
accomplished  performer  on  the  guitar ;  the  second  gifted  with 
the  faculty  of  producing  in  his  throat  the  exactest  imitation  of 
every  bird  of  the  forest;  and  the  third  was  a  mighty  master  of 
the  back-step,  viz.  an  old  Virginia  "breakdown." 

Upon  their  appearance  the  "  performances  commenced !  " 


STUART   ON  THE   OUTPOST.  199 


III. 

Behold  the  scene  now,  reader,  as  I  looked  at  it,  on  that  even 
ing  of  December  in  1861.  We  are  in  a  bleak  room,  with  no 
furniture  but  a  desk,  a  chair,  and  a  camp  couch.  At  the  desk 
sits  Stuart,  writing  away  with  immense  rapidity,  and  stopping 
now  and  then  to  hum  a  song.  On  the  couch,  near  the  fire,  are 
the  ladies — the  younger  smiling,  the  elder  frowning.  Around 
stand  the  staff,  and  at  the  door  are  the  laughing  faces  of  couriers, 
who  look  on  and  listen.  In  front  of  them  stand  the  sable  musi 
cians,  and  the  great  performer  of  the  breakdown — ebon-hued, 
dilapidated  in  costume,  awaiting  orders,  and  approaching  the  per 
formance  with  serious  and  unmistakable  satisfaction. 

Stuart  calls  out  from  his  desk,  without  turning  his  head,  and 
the  process  of  charming  away  the  evil  spirit  commences.  The 
guitar  is  played  by  the  General's  body-servant  Bob,  a  young 
mulatto  of  dandified  appearance — the  air,  indeed,  of  a  lady- 
killer — and  an  obvious  confidence  in  his  own  abilities  to  delight, 
if  not  instruct  and  improve,  his  audience.  Bob  laboriously  tunes 
his  instrument ;  gazes  thoughtfully  at  the  ceiling,  as  he  absently 
"picks  upon  the  string;"  and  then  commences  singing  the 
popular  air,  "Listen  to  the  Mocking-Bird."  He  is  accompanied 
in  the  chorus  by  the  sable  ventriloquist,  who  imitates  all  the 
feathered  tribe  in  his  throat;  and  lo!  as  you t listen,  the  room 
seems  full  of  mocking-birds;  the  air  is  alive  with  the  gay  carol 
of  robins,  larks,  jay-birds,  orioles ;  the  eyes  of  the  ventriloquist 
roll  rapturously  like  balls  of  snow  against  a  wall  of  charcoal, 
and  the  guitar  keeps  up  its  harmonious  accompaniment. 

The  young  lady  listens  and  her  eyes  dance.  Her  cheeks  grow 
more  rosy,  her  smiles  brighter;  even  her  elderly  companion  re 
laxes  somewhat  from  her  rigidly  hostile  expression,  and  pays 
attention  to  the  music.  The  "  Mocking-Bird  "  ends,  and  is  suc 
ceeded  by  the  plaintive  "  Alabama !  Alabama  !  " — the  guitar 
still  thrumming,  the  ventriloquist  still  accompanying  the  music 
with  his  bird-notes.  Other  songs  succeed,  and  then  General 
Stuart  turns  round  with  a  laugh  and  calls  for  a  breakdown. 


^00  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

Thereupon  the  dilapidated  African,  who  has  up  to  this  time  re 
mained  motionless,  advances  into  the  arena,  dropping  his  hat 
first  at  the  door.  Bob  strikes  up  a  jig  upon  his  guitar,  the  ven 
triloquist  claps,  and  the  great  performer  of  the  breakdown 
commences  his  evolutions,  first  upon  the  heel-tap,  then  upon  the 
toe.  His  antics  are  grand  and  indescribable.  He  leaps,  he 
whirls,  he  twists  and  untwists  his  legs  until  the  crowd  at  the 
door  grows  wild  with  admiration.  The  guitar  continues  to  roar 
and  Stuart's  laughter  mingles  with  it ;  the  ventriloquist  not  only 
claps  with  ardour,  but  also  imitates  his  favourite  songsters.  The 
dancer's  eyes  roll  gorgeously,  his  steps  grow  more  rapid,  he  exe 
cutes  unheard-of  figures.  Finally  a  frenzy  seems  to  seize  him; 
the  mirth  grows  fast  and  furious ;  the  young  lady  laughs  out 
right  and  seems  about  to  clap  her  hands.  Even  the  elder  relaxes* 
into  an  unmistakable  smile ;  and  as  the  dancer  disappears  with  a 
bound  through  the  door,  the  guitar  stops  playing,  and  Stuart's 
laughter  rings  out  gay  and  jovial,  the  grim  lips  open  and  she  says : 

"You  rebels  do  seem  to  enjoy  yourselves!  " 

These  were  the  exact  words  of  the  lady,  reader,  and  I  think  I 
can  recall  a  few  words  of  General  Stuart,  too.  He  had  been 
busily  engaged  with  his  official  papers  all  this  time,  at  his  desk — 
for  he  never  permitted  pleasure  to  interfere  with  business — and 
the  gay  scene  going  on  in  the  apartment  did  not  seem  to  disturb 
him  in  the  least  degree.  Indeed,  upon  this,  as  upon  many  other 
occasions,  I  could  see  that  music  of  any  description  aroused  his 
rnind,  and  was  an  assistance  to  him— the  banjo,  singing,  any 
thing — and  by  its  aid  now  he  had  hurried  through  his  work. 
Thereupon  he  rose,  and  approached  the  ladies,  with  gay  smiles 
and  inquiries,  if  they  were  amused : 

"  They  had  heard  his  musicians ;  would  the  ladies  now  like 
to  see  something  which  might  interest  them  ?  " 

Irresistible  appeal  to  that  sentiment  which  is  said  to  be  the 
weakness  of  the  fair  sex — curiosity  ! 

"  They  would  like  very  much  to  see  what  the  General  spoke 
of;  "  and  thereupon  Stuart  pointed  to  a  coat  -and  waistcoat  hang 
ing  upon  a  nail  on  the  wall  over  their  heads.  The  clothes  were 
torn  by  a  bullet  and  bloody. 


STUART  ON  THE   OUTPOST.  201 

t     The  young  lady  looked,  and  her  smiles  all  disappeared. 

"What  is  that,  General?"  said  the  elder. 

"It  is  the  coat  and  waistcoat  of  a  poor  boy  of  my  command, 
madam,"  replied  Stuart,  "  who  was  shot  and  killed  on  picket  the 
other  day — young  Chichester,  from  just  below  Fairfax  Court- 
House.  He  was  a  brave  fellow,  and  I  am  keeping  these  clothes 
to  send  to  his  mother." 

"  Poor  boy !  "  from  the  young  lady ;  and  from  the  elder  a 
look  of  unmistakable  sympathy. 

Stuart  then  gave  an  account  of  the  fight ;  and  his  voice,  as  he 
spoke  of  the  death  of  the  boy,  was  no  longer  gay — it  was  seri 
ous,  feeling,  and  had  in  it  something  delightfully  kind  and 
sweet.  Under  that  gay  exterior  of  the  young  cavalier  there  was 
a  warm  and  earnest  heart — as  beneath  the  stern  eye  of  the  man 
was  all  the  tenderness  of  a  woman.  It  was  plain  to  me  on  that 
evening,  and  plainer  afterwards  when  a  thorough  acquaintance 
with  the  great  leader  made  me  fully  cognizant  of  his  real  cha 
racter.  There  was  something  more  charming  even  than  the 
gaiety  of  Stuart — it  was  the  low,  sad  tone  in  which  he  spoke  of 
some  dead  friend,  the  tear  in  the  bright  blue  eye  which  dimmed 
its  fire  at  the  thought  of  some  face  that  was  gone. 


IV. 

So,  between  mirth  and  pathos — between  the  rattling  guitar 
and  the  bloody  coat  of  the  dead  boy — the  ladies  were  fairly  con 
quered.  When  Stuart  gallantly  accompanied  them  to  the  door, 
and  bowed  as  they  retired,  the  elderly  lady  smiled,  and  I  think 
the  younger  gave  him  a  glance  full  of  thanks  and  admiration. 

But  stern  duty  required  still  that  the  fair  fugitives  should  be 
further  cabined  and  confined.  Stuart  could  not  release  them ; 
he  must  send  them  to  Centreville,  by  standing  order  from  Gene 
ral  Johnston,  and  thither  they  were  accordingly  dispatched  on 
the  next  morning  after  breakfast.  The  General  had  at  his  head 
quarters — procured  where,  I  know  not — an  old  carriage.  To 
this  two  horses  were  harnessed  ;  a  son  of  Erin  from  the  couriers 


202  WEARING   OF   THE   GRAY. 

was  detailed  as  a  driver,  and  the  General  requested  me  to  accom 
pany  the  ladies  and  conduct  them  to  General  Johnston. 

Then  he  exhibited  his  gallantry  after  the  military  fashion. 
The* ladies  had  entered  the  carriage;  the  pretty  blushing  face  of 
the  young  damsel  of  seventeen  was  seen  at  the  window,  her 
little  white  hand  hung  out  of  the  carriage.  Stuart  took  it  and 
pressed  it  warmly  to  his  lips — a  slight  exclamation,  a  hand  with 
drawn  hastily,  and  a  little  laugh,  as  the  young  lady's  face  dis 
appeared — rand  the  carriage  moved  on.  I  mounted  and  got 
ready  to  follow ;  but  first  I  turned  to  Stuart,  who  was  standing 
with  the  bright  December  sunshine  on  his  laughing  face,  look 
ing  after  the  carriage. 

"General,"  I  said,  "will  you  answer  me  one  or  two  questions 
before  I  leave  you  ?  " 

"Well,  ask  them— I'll  try." 

"  Why  did  you  put  yourself  out  so  much,  when  you  were  so 
busy  last  night,  and  get  up  that  frolic  ?  " 

"Don't  you  understand?"  was  his  laughing  reply.  "When 
those  ladies  arrived  they  were  mad  enough  with  me  to  bite  my 
head  off,  and  I  determined  to  put  them  in  good  humour  before 
they  left  me.  Well,  I  have  done  it ;  they  are  my  good  friends 
at  this  moment." 

"You  are  right;  now  for  my  other  question.  I  saw  you  kiss 
that  pretty  little  hand  of  the  young  lady  as  it  lay  in  the  carriage 
window  ;  why  didn't  you  kiss  that  of  the  elder,  too?  " 

Stuart  approached  my  horse,  and  leaning  his  arm  upon  the 
mane,  said  in  low  tones,  as  though  he  was  afraid  of  being  over 
heard  : 

"Would  you  like  me  to  tell  you?  " 

"Yes,"  was  my  reply. 

"  The  old  lady's  hand  had  a  glove  upon  it ! "  was  his  confi 
dential  whisper ;  and*  this  was  followed  by  a  real  explosion,  in 
which  the  gay  cavalier  seemed  to  find  vent  for  all  the  pent-up 
laughter  which  had  been  struggling  in  him  since  the  preceding 
evening. 

T  accompanied  the  ladies  to  Centreville,  and  they  did  not 
utter  a  single  unfriendly  word  upon  the  way  in  relation  to  Stu- 


'  STUART  ON"  THE   OUTPOST.  203 

art.  Indeed,  the  young  lady  seemed  altogether  charmed  with 
the  whole  adventure,  and  appeared  to  have  warmly  welcomed 
the  incident  which  gave  her  a  sight  of  that  black  plume,  those 
brilliant,  laughing  eyes.  If  this  page  should  meet  her  eye,  will 
she  pardon  me  if  I  say:  "Fair  flower  of  seventeen,  you  may 
have  drawn  your  hand  away  that  day,  and  thought  the  kiss 
imprinted  on  it  a  liberty ;  but  do  not  regret  it  now,  for  those 
lips  belonged  to  the  '  flower  of  cavaliers,'  and  to-day  they  are 
cold  in  death !  " 

I  have  made  this  little  sketch  of  Stuart  at  "  Camp  Qui  Vive  " 
for  those  who  like  the  undress  picture  of  a  famous  man,  rather 
than  the  historic  bust — cold,  still,  and  lifeless.  Have  you  not 
seen,  reader,  there  upon  the  outpost  as  you  followed  me,  the  gay 
face  of  Stuart ;  heard  his  laughter  as  he  called  for  the  "  Mock 
ing  Bird;"  and  listened  to  his  sad  tones  as  he  pointed  to  the 
bloody  coat,  and  told  of  the  brave  boys  shot  on  picket?  If  you 
cannot  see  those  figures  and  hear  the  accents,  it  is  the  fault  of 
the  writer,  and  perhaps  his  merriment  is  not  gay.  Always  those 
long-dead  scenes  came  to  him  with  a  sort  of  dreamy  sadness — 
the  mirth  is  mournful,  and  the  laughter  dies  away. 

No  more  at  "  Camp  Qui  Vive,"  or  any  other  camp,  will  the 
laugh  of  Stuart  ring  out  joyous  and  free.  He  is  gone — but  lives 
still  here  upon  the  soil  of  Virginia,  and  will  live  for  ever ! 


III. 
ONE  OF  STUARTS  ESCAPES. 


i. 

I  NEVER  pass  the  little  village  of  Yerdiersville,  on  the  road 
from  Orange  Court-House  to  Chancellorsville,  without  casting  a 
glance  upon  a  small  house — the  first  upon  the  right  as  you  .enter 
the  hamlet  from  the  west. 

There  is  nothing  remarkable  in  the  appearance  of  this  house ; 
and  unless  some  especial  circumstance  directed  to  it  your  atten 
tion,  you  would  pass  it  by  completely  without  notice.  A  small 
wooden  mansion,  such  as  every  village  contains  ;  a  modest,  rather 
dilapidated  porch ;  a  contracted  yard  in  front,  and  an  ordinary 
fence  of  narrow  palings,  through  which  a  narrow  gate  gives 
access  to  the  road — there  is  the  whole.  ISTow  why  should  this 
most  commonplace  and  uninteresting  of  objects  cause  the  present 
writer,  whenever  he  passes  it,  and  however  weary  he  may  be,  to 
turn  his  horse's  head  in  the  direction  of  the  little  gate,  pause  on 
his  way,  and  remain  for  some  moments  gazing  in  silence  at  the 
dilapidated  porch,  the  tumble-down  fence,  and  the  narrow  gate 
way,  yawning  now  wide  open,  gateless  ?  Because  the  sight  of 
this  house  recalls  a  scene  of  which  it  was  the  theatre  about  three 
years  ago — that  is  to  say  in  August,  1862.  It  was  here  that 
Stuart  had  one  of  those  narrow  escapes  which  were  by  no  means 
unusual  in  his  adventurous  career,  and  which  will  make  his 
life,  when  time  has  mellowed  the  events  of  this  epoch,  the  chosen 
subject  of  those  writers  dealing  in  the  romance  of  war. 

Ah  !  those  "  romances  of  the  war !  "  The  trifling  species  will 
come  first,  in  which  the  Southern  leaders  will  be  made  to  talk  an 


ONE  OF  STUART'S  ESCAPES.  205 

incredible  gibberish,  and  figure  in  the  most  tremendous  adven 
tures.  We  shall  then  see,  my  dear  reader,  the  august  form  of 
Lee,  dressed  in  that  splendid  new  uniform  which  he  always  wore, 
riding  that  swift  Arabian,  blazing  with  his  golden  caparison,  and 
exclaiming,  "  Behold  yonder  battery,  my  men  !  Charge  on  it ! 
Sweep  the  foeman  from  your  path  !  "  The  gay  and  elegant  form 
of  Stonewall  Jackson  will  be  seen  as  he  leads  his  cavalry,  and 
swears  in  the  charge  ;  Stuart  will  give  his  cautious  counsel  to  fall 
back;  and  we  shall  have,  in  the  yellow-covered  pamphlets,  a 
truthful  picture  of  the  war.  But  then  will  come  the  better  order 
of  things,  when  writers  like  Walter  Scott  will  conscientiously 
collect  the  real  facts,  and  make  some  new  "  Waverley"  or 
"  Legend  of  Montrose."  For  these,  and  not  for  the  former  class, 
I  propose  to  set  down  here  an  incident  in  the  life  of  the  great 
commander  of  the  Southern  cavalry,  of  which  he  told  me  all  the 
particulars,  for  I  was  not  present. 

It  was  about  the  middle  of  August,  1862,  and  Jackson,  after 
deciding  the  fate  of  the  day  at  Cold  Harbour,  and  defeating 
General  Pope  at  Cedar  Mountain,  was  about  to  make  his  great 
advance  upon  Manassas  with  the  remainder  of  the  army.  In  all 
such  movements  Stuart's  cavalry  took  its  place  upon  the  flanks, 
and  no  sooner  had  the  movement  begun,  than,  leaving  his  head 
quarters  in  the  grassy  yard  of  the  old  Hanover  Court-House 
where  Patrick  Henry  made  his  famous  speech  against  the  parsons, 
Stuart  hastened  to  put  his  column  in  motion  for  the  lower  waters 
of  the  Eapidan. 

Such  was  the  situation  of  affairs  when  the  little  incident  I  pro- 
l/udfcj  to  relate  took  place.  Fitz  Lee's  brigade  was  ordered  to 
move  by  way  of  Yerdiersville  to  Eaccoon  Ford,  and  take  position 
on  Jackson's  right ;  and  General  Stuart  hastened  forward,  attend 
ed  only  by  a  portion  of  his  staff,  toward  Yerdiersville,  where 
he  expected  to  be  speedily  joined  by  "  General  Fitz." 

Stuart  reached  the  little  hamlet  on  the  evening,  I  believe,  of 
the  16th  of  August,  and  selecting  the  small  house  which  I  have 
described  for  his  temporary  headquarters,  awaited  the  approach 
of  his  column. 

Half  an  hour,  an  hour  passed,  and  nothing  was  heard  of  the 


206  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

expected  cavalry.  General  Stuart's  position  was  by  no  means 
a  safe  one,  as  the  event  showed.  He  was  ten  miles  distant 
from  any  succour  in  case  of  an  attack.  'The  country  around 
Verdiersville  was  known  to  be  full  of  prowling  detachments  of 
Federal  cavalry  ;  and  the  daring  cavalier,  upon  whose  skill  and 
energy  so  much  depended  at  that  crisis,  might  be  quietly  picked 
up  by  some  scouting  party  of  the  enemy,  and  carried  as  a  rich 
prize  to  General  Pope.  Stuart  was,  however,  well  accustomed 
throughout  his  adventurous  career  to  take  such  risks;  they 
even  seemed  to  possess  an  irresistible  charm  to  him,  and  he  pre 
pared  to  spend  the  night,  if  necessary,  in  this  exposed  spot.  He 
accordingly  tied  his  horse  to  the  fence,  the  bridle.having  been 
taken  from  his  mouth  to  allow  the  animal  to  feed,  spread  his 
gray  riding-cape  upon  the  porch  of  the  little  house,  and  prepared 
to  go  to  sleep.  First,  however,  he  called  Major  Fitz  Hugh,  of 
his  staff,  and  sent  him  back  about  a  mile  down  the  road  to  look 
out  for  General  Fitz  Lee.  The  major  was  to  go  to  the  mouth  of 
the  Kichmond  and  Antioch  Church  road,  await  General  Fitz's 
arrival,  and  communicate  further  orders.  Having  arranged  this, 
Stuart  lay  down  with  his  staff  and  they  all  went  to  sleep. 

Let  us  now  accompany  Major  Fitz  Hugh,  an  old  (though  still 
youthful  and  alert)  cavalryman — used  to  scouting,  reconnoi 
tring,  and  dealing  generally  with  Federal  cavalry.  The  major  took 
a  courier  with  him,  and  riding  down  the  road  about  a  mile  in 
the  direction  of  Chancellorsville,  soon  reached  the  mouth  of  the 
Antioch  Church  road — a  branch  of  that  most  devious,  puzzling, 
bewildering  of  all  highways,  the  famed  "  Catharpin  road."  Major 
Fitz  Hugh  found  at  his  stopping-place  an  old  deserted  house, 
and  as  this  house  was  a  very  good  "picket  post"  from  which 
to  observe  the  road  by  which  General  Fitz  Lee  must  come,  the 
major  came  to  a  halt  at  the  old  rattle-trap — forlornest  of  aban 
doned  wayside  inns — and  there  established  his  headquarters. 
An  hour,  two  hours  passed — there  was  no  sign  of  General  Fitz ; 
and  the  major,  who  had  ridden  far  and  was  weary,  tied  his  hand 
some  sorrel  near,  directed  the  courier  to  keep  a  sharp  look-out, 
and,  entering  the  house,  lay  down  on  the  floor  to  take  a  short 
nap. 


ONE  OF  STUART'S  ESCAPES.  207 

Such  resolutions,  under  such  circumstances,  generally  end  in 
a  good  night's  sleep.  About  daylight  Major  Fitz  Hugh  was 
awakened  by  a  noise  of  hoofs  on  the  road  without,  and,  rising, 
he  went  to  meet  General  Fitz  Lee.  The  first  circumstance  which 
induced  him  to  change  his  views  of  the  "situation"  was  the 
sight  of  a  swarm  of  Hue-coated  cavalrymen  around  the  house, 
one  of  whom  had  untied  and  was  leading  off  in  triumph  his 
glossy  sorrel !  A  dozen  others,  who  had  arrived  too  late  to 
secure  the  prize,  were  uttering  imprecations  on  their  luck. 

A  glance  took  in  the  whole  scene — Major  Fitz  Hugh  found 
himself  surrounded  by  Federal  cavalry,  and  a  party  soon  burst 
into  the  house,  and,  with  pistols  at  his  breast,  ordered  him  to 
surrender.  The  major  was  furious  at  this  contretemps,  and 
glanced  around  for  his  weapons.  He  clutched  his  pistol  and 
cocked  it ;  but  his  wrist  was  immediately  seized,  and  an  attempt 
made  to  wrench  the  weapon  from  his  grasp.  The  major  retorted 
by  twisting  his  hand,  and  firing  one  or  two  barrels,  but  without 
result.  They  then  rushed  upon  him,  threw  him  down ;  his  arms 
were  wrested  from  him  in  a  trice,  and  he  was  conducted  to 
the  commanding  officer  of  the  force,  at  the  head  of  his  column 
without. 

The  officer  was  a  colonel,  and  asked  Major  Fitz  Hugh  a  great 
number  of  questions.  He  was  evidently  lost.  The  major 
declined  replying  to  any  of  them,  and  now  his  fears  were  pain 
fully  excited  for  General  Stuart.  If  the  column  should  take 
the  direction  of  Verdiersville  there  was  every  reason  to  fear  that 
the  General  would  be  surprised  and  captured.  Meanwhile  Major 
Fitz  Hugh  had  taken  a  seat  upon  a  fence,  and  as  the  column 
began  to  move  he  was  ordered  to  get  up  and  walk.  This  he 
declined  doing,  and  the  altercation  was  still  proceeding,  when 
an  officer  passed  and  the  major  complained  of  having  his  horse 
taken  from  him.  "I  am  accustomed  to  ride,  not  to  walk,"  he 
said ;  and  this  view  of  the  subject  seemed  to  impress  the  Federal 
officer,  who,  either  from  courtesy  or  to  secure  a  mounted  guide, 
had  his  horse  brought  and  returned  to  him  for  the  nonce.  The 
major  mounted  and  rode  to  the  front  amid  "There  goes  the 
rebel  major!"  "Ain't  he  a  fine  dressed  fellow?"  "Don't  he 


208  WEARING   OF   THE    GKAY. 

ride  proud  ? "  sounds  soothing  and  pleasant  to  the  captured 
major,  who  was  dressed  in  a  fine  new  roundabout  with  full  gold 
braid. 

But  his  thoughts"  suddenly  became  far  from  pleasant.  The 
head  of  the  cavalry  column  had  turned  toward  Verdiersvitte,  only 
a  mile  distant,  and  General  Stuart's  danger  was  imminent.  The 
courier  had  also  been  captured ;  no  warning  of  his  peril  could 
be  got  to  the  General;  and  worse  than  all,  he  would  doubt 
less  take  the  column  for  that  of  General  Fitz  Lee,  which  was  to 
come  by  this  very  road,  and  thus  be  thrown  completely  off  his 
guard.  A  more  terrible  contretemps  could  not  have  occurred 
than  the  Major's  capture,  and  he  saw  no  earthly  means  of  giving 
«  the  alarm.  He  was  riding  beside  the  colonel  commanding,  who 
had  sent  for  him,  and  was  thus  forced  to  witness,  without  taking 
part  in  it,  the  scene  about  to  be  enacted. 

II. 

Let  us  return  now  to  the  small  party  asleep  on  the  porch  of 
the  house  in  •  Verdiersville. 

They  did  not  awake  until  day,  when  Stuart  was  aroused  by 
the  noise  of  hoofs  upon  the  road,  and  concluding  that  General 
Fitz  Lee  had  arrived,  rose  from  the  floor  of  the  porch,  and, 
without  his  hat,  walked  to  the  little  gate.  The  column  was  not 
yet  discernible  clearly  in  the  gray  of  morning;  but  in  some 
manner  Stuart's  suspicions  were  excited.  To  assure  himself  of 
the  truth,  he  requested  Captain  Mosby  and  Lieutenant  Gibson, 
who  were  with  him,  to  ride  forward  and  see  what  command  was 
approaching. 

The  reception  which  the  two  envoys  met  with,  speedily  de 
cided  the  whole  question.  They  had  scarcely  approached 
within  pistol-shot  of  the  head  of  the  column,  when  they  were 
fired  upon,  and  a  detachment  spurred  forward  from  the  cavalry, 
calling  upon  them  to  halt,  and  firing  upon  them  as  they  re 
treated.  They  were  rapidly  pursued,  and  in  a  few  moments  the 
Federal  cavalry  had  thundered  down  upon  the  house,  in  front 
of  which  General  Stuart  was  standing. 


E-     - 
'S-    1 


ONE  OF  STUART'S  ESCAPES.  209 

The  General  had  to  act  promptly.  There  was  no  force  within 
many  miles  of  him;  nothing  wherewith  to  make  resistance; 
flight  or  instant  capture  were  the  alternatives,  and  even  flight 
seemed  impossible.  The  Federal  horsemen  had  rushed  at  full 
gallop  upon  the  house ;  the  horses  of  the  General  and  staff  were 
unbridled,  and  the  only  means  of  exit  from  the  yard  seemed  to 
be  the  narrow  gate  in  front,  scarcely  wide  enough  for  a  mounted 
man  to  pass,  and  right  in  face  of  the  enemy.  In  addition  to 
this,  the  little  party  had  just  been  aroused;  the  General  had 
even  left  his  hat  and  cape  upon  the  floor  of  the  porch,  so  com 
plete  was  the  feeling  of  security ;  and  when  Mosby  was  fired  on, 
he  was  standing  bare-headed  at  the  gate. 

What  followed  all  took  place  in  an  instant.  The  General  and 
his  party  leaped  on  their  horses,  some  of  which  had  been  hastily 
bridled,  and  sought  for  means  of  escape.  One  of  the  staff  offi 
cers  darted  through  the  narrow  gate  with  his  bridle-reins  hang 
ing  down  beneath  his  horse's  feet,  and  disappeared  up  the  road 
followed  by  a  shower  of  balls.  The  rest  took  the  fence.  Stuart, 
bare-headed,  and  without  his  cape,  which  still  lay  on  the  porch, 
threw  himself  upon  his  unbridled  horse,  seized  the  halter,  and 
digging  his  spurs  into  his  sides,  cleared  the  palings,  and  galloped 
off  amid  a  hot  fire.  He  went  on  until  he  reached  a  clump  of 
woods  near  the  house,  when  he  stopped  to  reconnoitre. 

The  enemy  did  not  at  once  follow,  and  from  his  point  of  obser 
vation  the  General  had  the  mortification  of  witnessing  the  cap 
ture  of  his  hat  and  cape.  The  Federal  cavalrymen  dashed  up 
to  the  porch  and  seized  these  articles,  which  they  bore  off  in 
triumph — raising  the  brown  hat,  looped  up  with  a  golden  star, 
and  decorated  with  its  floating  black  feather,  upon  the  points  of 
their  sabres,  and  laughing  at  the  escapade  which  they  had  thus 
occasioned. 

Major  Fitz  Hugh,  at  the  head  of  the  main  column,  and  beside 
the  Federal  Colonel,  witnessed  all,  and  burst  into  laughter  and 
sobs,  such  was  his  joy  at  the  escape  of  his  General.  This  at 
tracted  the  attention  of  the  Federal  officer,  who  said : 

"  Major,  who  was  that  party  ? " 

"That  have  escaped?" 

14 


210  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

"Yes." 

The  Major  looked  again  and  saw  that,  on  his  fleet  "  Skylark," 
Stuart  was  entirely  safe  by  this  time,  and  unable  to  contain  his 
triumph,  exclaimed: 

"  Do  you  really  wish  to  know  who  that  was,  Colonel  ? " 

"  I  do." 

"  Well,  it  was  General  Stuart  and  his  staff!  " 

"General  Stuart!"  exclaimed  the  officer;  "was  that  General 
Stuart?" 

"  Yes,  and  he  has  escaped  !  "  cried  the  overjoyed  Major. 

"  A  squadron  there ! "  shouted  the  Colonel  in  great  excite 
ment  ;  "  pursue  that  party  at  once !  Fire  on  them  !  It  is  Gene 
ral  Stuart ! " 

The  squadron  rushed  forward  at  the  word  upon  the  track  of 
the  fugitives  to  secure  their  splendid  prize ;  but  their  advance 
did  not  afford  the  General  much  uneasiness.  Long  experience 
had  told  him  that  the  Federal  cavalry  did  not  like  woods,  and  he 
knew  that  they  would  not  venture  far  for  fear  of  a  surprise. 
This  idea  was  soon  shown  to  be  well  founded.  The  Federal 
squadron  made  a  very  hot  pursuit  of  the  party  until  they  came 
to  the  woods ;  they  then  contented  themselves  with  firing  and 
advancing  very  cautiously.  Soon  even  this  ceased,  and  they 
rapidly  returned  to  Yerdiersville,  from  which  place  the  whole 
column  hastily  departed  in  the  direction  of  the  Kapidan.  The 
Colonel  carried  off  Major  Fitz  Hugh  to  serve  as  a  guide,  for  he 
had  lost  his  way,  and  stumbled  thus  upon  Yerdiersville.  If  you 
wish  to  laugh,  my  dear  reader,  go  and  see  Major  Fitz  Plugh,  and 
ask  Lim  what  topographical  information  he  gave  the  Federal 
commandant.  It  very  nearly  caused  the  capture  of  his  com 
mand  ;  but  he  got  back  safe  to  Pope's  army,  and  took  our  friend, 
the  Major,  witli  him. 

Such  was  Stuart's  narrow  escape  at  Yerdiersville.  He  suc 
ceeded  in  eluding  them,  but  he  lost  his  riding  cape  and  hat, 
which  the  enemy  had  seized  upon,  and  this  rankled  in  the  mind 
©f  the  General,  prompting  him  to  take  his  revenge  at  the  earliest 
practicable  moment. 

That  moment  soon  came.     Just  one  week  afterwards,  when 


ONE  OF  STUART'S  ESCAPES.  211 

General  Lee  had  pressed  on  to  the  Kappahannock,  and  General 
Pope  had  hastily  retired  before  him,  Stuart  made  an  expedition 
to  the  enemy's  rear,  and  struck  the  Orange  and  Alexandria  Kail- 
road  at  Catlett's. 

It  was  one  dark  and  stormy  night  that  the  attack  was  made — 
the  column  plunging  forward  at  full  speed,  through  ditches  and 
ravines,  without  light  enough  to  see  their  hands  before  them; 
and  by  a  singular  chance  Stuart  came  on  Pope's  headquarters, 
which  was  at  Catlett's.  The  Federal  commander  fled  with  his 
staff,  and  Stuart  captured  all  his  official  papers  containing  the 
fullest  information  of  his  strength,  position,  and  designs.  Those 
papers  were  transmitted  to  General  Lee,  and  probably  deter 
mined  him  to  send  Jackson  to  Pope's  rear. 

In  addition  to  the  papers  Stuart  made  a  capture  which  was 
personally  soothing  to  his  feelings.  In  his  flight,  General  Pope 
left  his  coat  behind !  and  when  the  leader  of  the  Southern  cav 
alry,  so  recently  despoiled  of  his  cape  and  hat,  left  Catlett's,  he 
bore  off  with  him  the  dress  uniform  coat  of  the  Federal  com 
mander,  who  had  prophetically  announced  to  his  troops  upon 
taking  command,  that  "  disaster  and  shame  lurked  in  the  rear." 

The  account  was  thus  balanced.  Catlett's  had  avenged  Ver- 
diersville ! 

And  so,  my  dear  reader,  you  know  why  I  always  glance  at 
that  little  house  in  the  village  as  I  pass.  The  dilapidated  porch 
is  still  there,  where  Stuart  slept,  and  the  fence  which  he  leaped 
still  stands,  as  he  pointed  it  out  to  me  one  day,  when  we  rode 
by,  describing  with  gay  laughter  his  adventure.  All  these  inani 
mate  objects  remain,  but  the  noble  figure  which  is  associated 
with  the  place  will  never  more  be  seen  in  the  flesh — the  good 
knight  has  been  unseated  by  a  stronger  arm  than  that  of  man. 
He  passed  unscathed  through  this  and  a  thousand  other  perils; 
but  at  last  came  the  fatal  bullet.  At  the  Yellow  Tavern  he  fell 
in  front  of  his  line,  cheering  on  his  men  to  the  last,  and  on  a 
beautiful  slope  of  Hollywood  Cemetery,  above  the  city  which 
he  died  defending,  he  "sleeps  well." 

Thus  passed  away  the  "  flower  of  cavaliers,"  the  pearl  of  chi 
valry.  Dying,  he  did  not  leave  his  peer. 


IV. 

A  GLIMPSE  OF  COL.  "JEB  STUART." 


THIS  sketch,  may  it  please  the  reader,  will  not  contain  any 
"  historic  events."  Not  a  single  piece  of  artillery  will  roar  in 
it — not  a  single  volley  of  musketry  will  sound — no  life  will  be 
lost  from  the  very  beginning  to  the  end  of  it.  It  aims  only  to 
draw  a  familiar  outline  of  a  famous  personage  as  he  worked  his 
work  in  the  early  months  of  the  war,  and  the  muse  of 
comedy,  not  tragedy,  will  hold  the  pen.  For  that  brutal  thing 
called  war  contains  much  of  comedy ;  the  warp  and  woof  of  the 
fabric  is  of  strangely  mingled  threads — blood  and  merriment, 
tears  and  laughter  follow  each  other,  and  are  mixed  in  a  manner 
quite  bewildering !  To-day  it  is  the  bright  side  of  the  tapestry 
I  look  at — my  aim  is  to  sketch  some  little  trifling  scenes  "  upon 
the  outpost." 

To  do  so,  it  will  be  necessary  to  go  back  to  the  early  years 
of  the  late  war,  and  to  its  first  arena,  the  country  between  Ma- 
nassas  and  the  Potomac.  Let  us,  therefore,  leave  the  present 
year,  1866,  of  which  many  persons  are  weary,  and  return  to 
1861,  of  which  many  never  grow  tired  talking — 1861,  with  its 
joy,  its  laughter,  its  inexperience,  and  its  confiding  simplicity, 
when  everybody  thought  that  the  big  battle  on  the  shores  of 
Bull's  Eun  had  terminated  the  war  at  one  blow. 

At  that  time  the  present  writer  was  attached  to  Beauregard's 
or  Johnson's  "  Army  of  the  Potomac,''  and  had  gone  with  the 


A   GLIMPSE   OF   COL.    "  JEB   STCAiiT."  218 

advance  force  of  the  army,  after  Manassas,  to  the  little  village 
of  Vienna — General  Bon  ham  commanding  the  detachment  of  a 
brigade  or  so.  Here  we  duly  waited  for  an  enemy  who  did  not 
corne ;  watched  his  mysterious  balloons  hovering  above  the 
trees,  and  regularly  "turned  out"  whenever  one  picket  (gray) 
fired  into  another  (gray). 

This  was  tiresome,  and  one  day  in  August  I  mounted  my 
horse  and  set  forward  toward  Fairfax  Court-House,  intent  on 
visiting  that  gay  cavalry  man,  Colonel  "  Jeb  Stuart,"  who  had 
been  put  in  command  of  the  front  toward  Annandale.  A  plea 
sant  ride  through  the  summer  woods  brought  me  to  the  pictur 
esque  little  village ;  and  at  a  small  mansion  about  a  mile  east 
of  the  town,  I  came  upon  the  cavalry  headquarters. 

The  last  time  I  had  seen  the  gay  young  Colonel  he  was 
stretched  upon  his  red  blanket  under  a  great  oak  by  the  road 
side,  holding  audience  with  a  group  of  country  people  around 
him — honest  folks  who  came  to  ascertain  by  what  unheard-of 
cruelty  they  were  prevented  from  passing  through  his  pickets  to 
their  homes.  The  laughing,  bantering  air  of  the  young  com 
mandant  of  the  outpost  that  day  had  amused  me  much.  I  well 
remembered  now  his  keen  eye,  and  curling  moustache,  and  cav 
alry  humour — thus  it  was  a  good  companion  whom  I  was  about 
to  visit,  not  a  stiff  and  silent  personage,  weighed  down  with 
"  official  business."  Whether  this  anticipation  was  realized  or 
not,  the  reader  will  discover. 

The  little  house  in  which  Colonel  Jeb  Stuart  had  taken  up  his 
residence,  was  embowered  in  foliage.  I  approached  it  through 
a  whole  squadron  of  horses,  picketed  to  the  boughs;  and  in 
front  of  the  portico  a  new  blood-red  battle  flag,  with  its  blue  St. 
Andrew's  cross  and  white  stars,  rippled  in  the  wind.  Bugles 
Bounded,  spurs  clashed,  sabres  rattled,  as  couriers  or  officers, 
scouts  or  escorts  of  prisoners  came  and  went;  huge-bearded 
cavalrymen  awaited  orders,  or  the  reply  to  dispatches — and  from 
within  came  song  and  laughter  from  the  young  commander. 
Let  me  sketch  him  as  he  then  appeared — the  man  who  was  to 
become  so  famous  as  the  chief  of  cavalry  of  General  Lee's  army ; 
who  was  to  inaugurate  with  the  hand  of  a  master,  a  whole  new 


214  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

system  of  cavalry  tactics — to  invent  the  raid  which  his  oppo 
nents  were  to  imitate  with  such  good  results — and  to  fall,  after 
a  hundred  hot  fights  in  which  no  bullet  ever  touched  him,  near 
the  scene  of  his  first  great  "ride"  around  the  army  of  Mc- 
Clellan. 

As  he  rose  to  meet  me,  I  took  in  at  a  glance  every  detail  of 
his  appearance.  His  low  athletic  figure  was  clad  in  an  old  blue 
undress  coat  of  the  United  States  Army,  brown  velveteen  panta 
loons  worn  white  by  rubbing  against  the  saddle,  high  cavalry 
boots  with  small  brass  spurs,  a  gray  waistcoat,  and  carelessly 
tied  cravat.  On  the  table  at  his  side  lay  a  Zouave  cap,  covered 
with  a  white  havelock — an  article  then  very  popular — and 
beside  this  two  huge  yellow  leathern  gauntlets,  reaching  nearly 
to  the  elbow,  lay  ready  for  use.  Around  his  waist,  Stuart  wore 
a  black  leather  belt,  from  which  depended  on  the  right  a  holster 
containing  his  revolver,  and  on  the  left  a  light,  keen  sabre,  of 
French  pattern,  with  a  basket  hilt.  The  figure  thus  was  that 
of  a  man  "every  inch  a  soldier,"  and  the  face  was  in  keeping 
with  the  rest.  The  broad  and  lofty  forehead — one  of  the  finest 
I  have  ever  seen — was  bronzed  by  sun  and  wind ;  the  eyes  were 
clear,  piercing,  and  of  an  intense  and  dazzling  blue ;  the  nose 
prominent,  with  large  and  mobile  nostrils ;  and  the  mouth  was 
completely  covered  by  a  heavy  brown  moustache,  which  swept 
down  and  mingled  with  a  huge  beard  of  the  same  tint,  reaching 
to  his  breast.  Such  was  the  figure  of  the  young  commandant, 
as  he  appeared  that  day,  in  the  midst  of  the  ring  of  bugles  and 
the  clatter  of  arms,  there  in  the  centre  of  his  web  upon  the  out 
post.  It  was  the  soldier  ready  for  work  at  any  instant ;  prepared 
to  mount  at  the  sound  of  the  trumpet,  and  lead  his  squadrons 
in  person,  like  the  hardy,  gallant  man-at-arms  he  was. 

After  friendly  greetings  and  dinner  on  the  lid  of  a  camp-chest, 
where  that  gay  and  good  companion,  Captain  Tiernan  Brien,  did 
the  honours,  as  second  in  command,  Stuart  proposed  that  we 
should  ride  into  Fairfax  Court-House  and  see  a  lady  prisoner  of 
his  there.  When  this  announcement  of  a  "  lady  prisoner  "  drew 
forth  some  expressions  of  astonishment,  he  explained  with  a 
laugh  that  the  lady  in  question  had  been  captured  a  few 


A  GLIMPSE   OF   COL.    "  JEB   STUART."  215. 

days  before  in  suspicious  proximity  to  the  Confederate  lines, 
which  she  appeared  to  be  reconnoitring;  and  that  she  was  a 
friend  of  the  "other  faction"  was  proved  by  the  circumstance 
that  when  captured  she  was  riding  a  Federal  Colonel's  horse, 
with  army  saddle,  holsters,  and  equipments  complete.  While 
on  a  little  reconnoissance,  all  by  herself,  in  this  guise  she  had 
fallen  into  Stuart's  net ;  had  been  conducted  to  his  headquarters ; 
assigned  by  him  to  the  care  of  a  lady  resident  at  the  Court-House, 
until  he  received  orders  in  relation  to  her  from  the  army  head 
quarters — and  this  lady  we  were  now  about  to  visit. 

We  set  out  for  the  village,  Stuart  riding  his  favourite  "  Sky 
lark," — that  good  sorrel  which  had  carried  him  through  all  the 
scouting  of  the  Valley,  and  was  captured  afterwards  near  Sharps- 
burg.  This  horse  was  of  extraordinary  toughness,  and  I  remem 
ber  one  day  his  master  said  to  me,  "  Kide  as  hard  as  you  choose, 
you  can't  tire  Skylark."  On  this  occasion  the  good  steed  was 
in  fall  feather;  and  as  I  am  not  composing  a  majestic  historic 
narrative,  it  will  be  permitted  me  to  note  that  his  equipments 
were  a  plain  "  McClellan  tree,"  upon  which  a  red  blanket  was 
confined  by  a  gaily  coloured  surcingle:  a  bridle  with  single 
head-stall,  light  curb-bit,  and  single  rein.  Mounted  upon  his 
sorrel,  Stuart  was  thoroughly  the  cavalry-man,  and  he  went  on 
at  a  rapid  gallop,  humming  a  song  as  he  rode. 

We  found  the  lady-prisoner  at  a  hospitable  house  of  the  village, 
and  there  was  little  in  her  appearance  or  manner  to  indicate  the 
"poor  captive,"  nor  did  she  exhibit  any  "freezing  terrour,"  as 
the  romance  writers  say,  at  sight  of  the  young  militaire.  At 
that  time  some  amusing  opinions  of  the  Southerners  were  preva 
lent  at  the  North.  The  "  rebels  "  were  looked  upon  pretty  much 
as  monsters  of  a  weird  and  horrible  character — a  sort  of  "  anthro 
pophagi,"  Cyclops-eyed,  and  with  heads  that  "  did  grow  beneath 
their  shoulders."  Short  rations,  it  was  popularly  supposed,  com 
pelled  them  to  devour  the  bodies  of  their  enemies ;  and  to  fall 
into  their  bloody  clutch  was  worse  than  death.  This  view  of 
the  subject,  however,  plainly  did  not  possess  the  captive  here. 
Her  fears,  if  she  had  ever  had  any  of  the  terrible  gray  people, 


216  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

were  quite  dissipated ;  and  she  received  us  with  a  nonchalant 
smile,  and  great  indifference. 

I  shall  not  give  the  fair  dame's  name,  nor  even  venture  to 
describe  her  person,  or  conjecture  her  age — further  than  to  say 
that  her  face  was  handsome  and  laughing,  her  age  about  twenty- 
five  or  thirty. 

The  scene  which  followed  was  a  little  comedy,  whose  gay  par 
ticulars  it  is  easier  to  recall  than  to  describe.  It  was  a  veritable 
crossing  of  swords  on  the  arena  of  Wit,  and  I  am  not  sure  that 
the.  lady  did  not  get  the  better  of  it.  Her  tone  of  badinage 
was  even  more  than  a  match  for  the  gay  young  officer's — and 
of  badinage  he  was  a  master — but  he  was  doubtless  restrained 
on  the  occasion  by  that  perfect  good-breeding  and  courtesy 
which  uniformly  marked  his  demeanour  to  the  sex,  and  his  fair* 
adversary  had  him  at  a  disadvantage.  She  certainly  allowed 
her  wit  and  humour  to  flash  like  a  Damascus  blade ;  and,  with 
a  gay  laugh,  denounced  the  rebels  as  perfect  wretches  for  coerc 
ing  her  movements.  Why,  she  would  like  to  know,  was  she 
ever  arrested  ?  She  had  only  ridden  out  on  a  short  pleasure 
excursion  from  Alexandria,  and  now  demanded  to  be  permitted 
to  return  thither.  "  Why  was  she  riding  a  Federal  officer's 
horse  ?  "  Why,  simply  because  he  was  one  of  her  friends.  If 
the  Colonel  would  "please"  let  her  return  through  his  pickets 
she  would  not  tell  anybody  anything — upon  her  word  ! 

"The  Colonel"  in  question  was  smiling — probably  at  the 
idea  of  allowing  anything  on  two  feet  to  pass  "through  his 
pickets  "  to  the  enemy.  But  the  impossibility  of  permitting  this 
was  not  the  burden  of  his  reply.  With  that  odd  "laughter  of 
the  eye"  always  visible  in  him  when  thoroughly  amused,  he 
opposed  the  lady's  return,  on  the  ground  that  he  would  miss  her 
society.  This  he  could  not  think  of,  and  it  was  not  friendly  in 
her  to  contemplate  leaving  him  for  ever  so  soon  after  making  his 
acquaintance !  Then  she  was  losing  other  pleasant  things. 
There  was  Richmond — she  would  see  all  the  sights  of  the  Con 
federate  capital ;  then  an  agreeable  trip  by  way  of  Old  Point 
would  restore  her  to  her  friends. 

Reply  of  the  lady  extremely  vivacious :  She  did  not  wish  to 


A  GLIMPSE   OF   COL.    "  JEB   STUART."  217 

see  the  Confederate  capital ! — she  wished  to  go  back  to  Alexan 
dria  ! — straight !  She  was  not  anxious  to  get  away  from  him, 
for  he  had  treated  her  with  the  very  greatest  courtesy,  and  she 
should  always  regard  him  as  her  friend.  But  she  wanted  to  go 
back  to  Alexandria,  through  the  pickets — straight ! 

That  the  statement  of  her  friendly  regard  for  the  young  Colo 
nel  was  unaffected,  the  fair  captive  afterwards  proved.  When  in 
due  course  of  time  she  was  sent  by  orders  from  army  headquar 
ters  to  Richmond,  and  thence  via  Old  Point  to  Washington,  she 
wrote  and  published  an  account  of  her  adventures,  in  which 
she  denounced  the  Confederate  officials  everywhere,  including 
those  at  the  centre  of  Rebeldom,  as  ruffians,  monsters,  and 
tyrants  of  the  deepest  dye,  but  excepted  from  this  sweeping 
characterization  the  youthful  Colonel  of  cavalry,  who  was  the 
author  of  all  her  woes.  So  far  from  complaining  of  him,  she 
extolled  his  kindness,  courtesy,  and  uniform  care  of  her  comfort, 
declaring  that  he  was  "the  noblest  gentleman  she  had  ever 
known."  There  was  indeed  about  Colonel  Jeb  Stuart,  as  about 
Major-General  Stuart,  a  smiling  air  of  courtesy  and  gallantry, 
which  made  friends  for  him  among  the  fair  sex,  even  when  they 
were  enemies;  and  Bayard  himself  could  not  have  exhibited 
toward  them  more  respect  and  consideration  than  he  did  uni 
formly.  He  must  have  had  serious  doubts  in  regard  to  the 
errand  of  his  fair  prisoner,  so  near  the  Confederate  lines,  but  he 
treated  her  with  the  greatest  consideration;  and  when  he  left 
her,  the  bow  he  made  was  as  low  as  to  the  finest  "lady  in  the 
land." 

It  is  possible  that  the  worthy  reader  may  not  find  as  much 
entertainment  in  perusing  the  foregoing  sketch  as  I  do  in  recall 
ing  the  scene  to  memory.  That  faculty  of  memory  is  a,  curious 
one,  and  very  prone  to  gather  up,  like  Autolycus,  the  "  uncon- 
sidered  trifles  "  of  life.  Every  trivial  incident  of  the  times  I 
write  of  comes  back  now — how  Stuart's  gay  laugh  came  as  he 
closed  the  door,  and  how  he  caught  up  a  drum  which  the  enemy 
had  left  behind  them  in  the  yard  of  the  mansion,  sprang  to  the 
saddle,  and  set  off  at  a  run  through  the  streets  of  the  village, 
causing  the  eyes  of  the  inhabitants  to  open  with  astonishment  at 


218  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

the  spectacle  of  Colonel  Stuart  running  a  race,  with,  a  drum  be 
fore  him,  singing  lustily  a  camp  song  as  he  rode.  In  a  number 
of  octavo  volumes  the  reader  will  find  an  account  of  the  great 
career  of  Major-General  Stuart — this  was  Colonel  Jeb  Stuart  on 
the  outpost. 

And  now  if  the  worthy  reader  is  in  that  idle,  unexacting 
mood  so  dear  to  chroniclers,  I  beg  he  will  listen  while  I  speak 
of  another  "  trifling  incident "  occurring  on  the  same  day,  which 
had  a  rather  amusing  result.  In  return  for  the  introduction 
accorded  me  to  the  captive,  I  offered  to  make  the  young  Colonel 
acquainted  with  a  charming  friend  of  my  own,  whom  I  had 
known  before  his  arrival  at  the  place;  and  as  he  acquiesced  with 
ready  pleasure,  we  proceeded  to  a  house  in  the  village,  where 

Colonel  Stuart  was  duly  presented  to  Miss .  The  officer 

and  the  young  lady  very  soon  thereafter  became  close  friends, 
for  she  was  passionately  Southern — and  a  few  words  will  present 
succinctly  the  result. 

In  the  winter  of  1862,  Colonel  Mosby  made  a  raid  into  Fair 
fax,  entered  the  Court-House  at  night,  and  captured  General 
Stoughton  and  his  staff — bringing  out  the  prisoners  and  a  num 
ber  of  fine  horses  safely.  This  exploit  of  the  partisan  greatly 

enraged  the  Federal  authorities ;  and  Miss ,  having  been 

denounced  by  Union  residents  as  Mosby's  "private  friend"  and 
pilot  on  the  occasion — which  Colonel  Mosby  assured  me  was  an 
entire  error — she  was  arrested,  her  trunks  searched,  and  the 
prisoner  and  her  papers  conveyed  to  Washington.  Here  she 
was  examined  on  the  charge  of  complicity  in  Mosby's  raid ;  but 
nothing  appeared  against  her,  and  she  was  in  a  fair  way  to  be 
released,  when  all  at  once  a  terrible  proof  of  her  guilt  was  dis 
covered.  Among  the  papers  taken  from  the  young  lady's  trunk 
was  found  the  following  document.  This  was  the  "damning 
record  "  which  left  no  further  doubt  of  her  guilt. 

I  print  the  paper  verbatim  et  literatim,  suppressing  only  the  full 
name  of  the  lady  : 


A  GLIMPSE   OF  COL.    "  JEB  STUART."  219 

"  To  all  Whom  it  May  Concern : 

"  KNOW  YE,  That  reposing  special  confidence  in  the  patriot 
ism,  fidelity,  and  ability  of  Antonia  J.  ,  I,  James  E.  B. 

Stuart,  by  virtue  of  the  power  vested  in  me  as  Brigadier-General 
of  the  Provisional  Army  of  the  Confederate  States  of  America, 
do  hereby  appoint  and  commission  her  my  honorary  Aide-de- 
Camp,  to  rank  as  such  from  this  date.  She  will  be  obeyed, 
respected,  and  admired  by  all  true  lovers  of  a  noble  nature. 

"  Given  under  my  hand  and  seal  at  the  Headquarters  Cavalry 
Brigade,  at  Camp  Beverly,  the  7th  October,  A.  D.  1861,  and  the 
first  year  of  our  independence. 

"J.  E.  B.  STUART. 
"  By  the  General : 

"L.  Tiernan  Brien,  A.  A.  G." 

Such  was  the.  fatal  document  discovered  in  Miss 's  trunk, 

the  terrible  proof  of  her  treason  !  The  poor  girl  was  committed 
to  the  Old  Capitol  Prison  as  a  secret  commissioned  emissary  of 
the  Confederate  States  Government,  was  kept  for  several 
months,  and  when  she  was  released  and  sent  South  to  Eich- 
mond,  where  I  saw  her,  she  was  as  thin  and  white  as  a  ghost — 
the  mere  shadow  of  her  former  self. 

All  that  cruelty  had  resulted  from  a  jest — from  the  harmless 
pleasantry  of  a  brave  soldier  in  those  bright  October  days  of 
1861! 


V. 
A  DESERTER. 

• 

% 

L 

OF  all  human  faculties,  surely  the  most  curious  is  the  memory. 
Capricious,  whimsical,  illogical,  acting  ever  in  accordance  with 
its  own  wild  will,  it  loses  so  many  "  important  events  "  to  retain 
the  veriest  trifles  in  its  deathless  clutch !  Ask  a  soldier  who 
has  fought  all  day  long  in  some  world-losing  battle,  what  he  re 
members  most  vividly,  and  he  will  tell  you  that  he  has  well-nigh 
forgotten  the  most  desperate  charges,  but  recalls  with  perfect 
distinctness  the  joy  he  experienced  in  swallowing  a  mouthful  of 
water  from  the  canteen  on  the  body  of  a  dead  enemy. 

A  trifling  incident  of  the  second  battle  of  Manassas  remains 
in  my  memory  more  vividly  than  the  hardest  fighting  of  the 
whole  day,  and  I  never  recall  the  incident  in  question  without 
thinking,  too,  of  De  Quincey's  singular  paper,  "  A  Vision  of 
Sudden  Death."  The  reader  is  probably  familiar  with  the  arti 
cle  to  which  I  refer — a  very  curious  one,  and  not  the  least  admi 
rable  of  those  strange  leaves,  full  of  thought  and  fancy,  which 
the  "Opium  Eater"  scattered  among  the  readers  of  the  last 
generation.  He  was  riding  on  the  roof  of  a.  stage-coach,  when 
the  vehicle  commenced  the  descent  of  a  very  steep  hill.  Soon 
it  began  moving  with  mad  velocity,  the  horses  became  unma 
nageable,  and  it  was  obvious  that  if  it  came  in  collision  with 
anything,  either  it  or  the  object  •which,  it  struck  would  be 
dashed  in  pieces.  All  at  once,  there  appeared  in  front,  on  the 


A  DESERTER.  221 

narrow  road,  a  light  carriage,  in  which  were  seated  a  young  man 
and  a  girl.  They  either  did  not  realize  their  danger,  or  were 
powerless  to  avoid  it ;  and  on  swept  the  heavy  stage,  with  its 
load  of  passengers,  its  piled-up  baggage,  and  its  maddened 
horses — rushing  straight  down  on  the  frail  vehicle  with  which  it 
soon  came  in  collision.  It  was  at  the  moment  when  the  light 
little  affair  was  dashed  to  pieces,  the  stage  rolling  with  a  wild 
crash  over  the  boy  and  girl,  that  De  Quincey  saw  in  their  awe 
struck  faces  that  singular  expression  which  he  has  described  by 
the  phrase,  "  A  Vision  of  Sudden  Death." 

It  requires  some  courage  to  intrude  upon  the  literary  domain 
of  that  great  master,  the  "  Opium  Eater,"  and  the  comparison 
will  prove  dangerous ;  but  a  reader  here  and  there  may  be  in 
terested  in  a  vision  of  sudden  death  which  I  myself  once  saw  in  a 
human  eye.  On  the  occasion  in  question,  a  young,  weak- 
minded,  and  timid  person  was  instantaneously  confronted,  with 
out  premonition  or  suspicion  of  his  danger,  with  the  abrupt 
prospect  of  an  ignominious  death ;  and  I  think  the  great  English 
writer  would  have  considered  my  incident  more  stirring  than 
his  own. 

It  was  on  the  morning  of  August  31,  1862,  on  the  "Warren ton 
road,  in  a  little  skirt  of  pines,  near  Cub  Kun  bridge,  between 
Manassas  and  Centreville.  General  Pope,  who  previously  had 
"only  seen  the  backs  of  his  enemies,"  had  been  cut  to  pieces. 
The  battle-ground  which  had  witnessed  the  defeat  of  Scott  and 
McDowell  on  the  21st  of  July,  1861,  had  now  again  been  swept  by 
the  bloody  besom  of  war ;  and  the  Federal  forces  were  once  more 
in  fall  retreat  upon  Washington.  The  infantry  of  the  Southern 
army  were  starved,  broken  down,  utterly  exhausted,  when  they 
went  into  that  battle,  but  they  carried  everything  before  them ; 
and  the  enemy  had  disappeared,  thundering  with  their  artillery 
to  cover  their  retreat.  The  rest  of  the  work  must  be  done  by 
the  cavalry;  and  to  the  work  in  question  the  great  cavalier 
Stuart  addressed  himself  with  the  energy,  dash,  and  vigour  of  his 
character.  The  scene,  as  we  went  on,  was  curious.  Pushing 
across  the  battle-field — we  had  slept  at  "  Fairview,"  the  Conrad 
House  on  the  maps — we  saw  upon  every  side  the  reeking  traces 


222  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

of  the  bloody  conflict ;  and  as  the  column  went  on  across  Bull 
Eun,  following  the  enemy  on  their  main  line  of  retreat  over  the 
road  from  Stonebridge  to  Centreville,  the  evidences  of  "demo 
ralization"  and  defeat  crowded  still  more  vividly  upon  the  eye. 
Guns,  haversacks,  oil-cloths,  knapsacks,  abandoned  cannon  and 
broken-down  wagons  and  ambulances, — all  the  debris  of  an 
army,  defeated  and  hastening  to  find  shelter  behind  its  works — 
attracted  the  attention  now,  as  in  July,  1861,  when  the  first  "On 
to  Eichmond"  was  so  unfortunate.  Prisoners  were  picked  up 
on  all  sides  as  the  cavalry  pushed  on  ;  their  horses,  if  they  were 
mounted,  were  taken  possession  of;  their  sabres,  guns,  and  pis 
tols  appropriated  with  the  ease  and  rapidity  of  long  practice ; 
and  the  prisoners  were  sent  in  long  strings  under  one  or, two 
mounted  men,  as  a  guard,  to  the  rear. 

As  we  approached  Cub  Eun  bridge,  over  which  the  rear-guard 
of  the  Federal  army  had  just  retired,  we  found  by  the  roadside 
a  small  wooden  house  used  as  a  temporary  hospital.  It  was  full 
of  dead  and  wounded  ;  and  I  remember  that  the  "Hospital  stew 
ard"  who  attended  the  Federal  wounded  was  an  imposing  per 
sonage.  Portly,  bland,  "  dignified,"  elegantly  dressed,  he  was  as 
splendid  as  a  major-general ;  nay,  far  more  so  than  any  gray 
major-general  of  the  present  writer's  acquaintance.  Our  tall  and 
finely-clad  friend  yielded  up  his  surplus  ambulances  with  grace 
ful  ease,  asked  for  further  orders ;  and  when  soon  his  own  friends 
from  across  Cub  Eun  began  to  shell  the  place,  philosophically 
took  his  stand  behind  the  frail  mansion  and  "  awaited  further 
developments"  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  was  resigned  to  the 
fortunes  of  war.  Philosophic  steward  of  the  portly  person  !  if 
you  see  this  page  it  will  bring  back  to  you  that  lively  scene  when 
the  present  writer  conversed  with  you  and  found  you  so  com 
posed  and  "equal  to  the  occasion,"  even  amid  the  shell  and 
bullets ! 

But  I  am  expending  too  much  attention  upon  my  friend  the 
surgeon,  who  "  held  the  position"  there  with  such  philosophic 
coolness.  The  cavalry,  headed  by  General  Stuart,  pushed  on, 
and  we  were  now  nearly  at  Cub  Eun  bridge.  The  main  body 
of  the  enemy  had  reached  Centreville  during  the  preceding 


A   DESERTER.  223 

night,  paid  we  could  see  their  white  tents  in  the  distance; 
but  a  strong  rear-guard  of  cavalry  and  artillery  had  been  left 
near  the  bridge,  and  as  we  now  advanced,  mounted  skirmishers 
from  the  Federal  side  forded  the  stream,  and  very  gallantly  came 
to  meet  us.  On  our  side,  sharpshooters  were  promptly  deployed 
— then  came  the  bang  of  carbines — then  Stuart's  Horse  Artillery 
galloped  up,  under  Pelham,  and  a  "rear-guard  affair"  began. 
Stuart  formed  his  column  for  a  charge,  and  had  just  begun  to 
move,  when  the  Federal  skirmishers  were  seen  retiring ;  a  dense 
srsoke  rose  from  Cub  Eun  bridge,  and  suddenly  the  enemy's 
artillery  on  a  knoll  beyond  opened  their  grim  mouths.  The  first 
shot  they  fired  was  admirable.  It  fell  plump  into  a  squadron 
of  cavalry — between  the  files  as  they  were  ranged  side  by  side 
in  column  of  twos — and  although  it  burst  into  a  hundred  pieces, 
did  not  wound  man  or  horse.  The  Horse  Artillery  under  Pel- 
ham  replied  to  the  fire  of  the  opposing  guns  ;  an  animated  artil 
lery  duel  commenced,  and  the  ordinary  routine  began. 


II. 

There  is  a  French  proverb  which  declares  that  although  you 
may  know  when  you  set  out  on  a  journey,  you  do  not  know 
when  you  will  arrive.  Those  who  journey  through  the  fine  land 
of  memory  are,  of  all  travellers,  the  most  ignorant  upon  that 
score,  and  are  apt  to  become  the  most  unconscionable  vagarists. 
Memory  refuses  to  recall  one  scene  or  incident  without  recalling 
also  a  hundred  others  which  preceded  or  followed  it.  "  You 
people,"  said  John  Eandolph  to  a  gentleman  of  an  extensive 
clan,  with  which  the  eccentric  orator  was  always  at  war,  "you 
people  all  take  up  each  other's  quarrels.  You  are  worse  than  a 
pile  of  fish-hooks.  If  I  try  to  grasp  one,  I  raise  the  whole 
bunch."  To  end  my  preface,  and  come  to  my  little  incident.  I 
was  sitting  on  my  horse  near  General  Stuart,  who  had  put  in  the 
skirmishers,  and  was  now  superintending  the  fire  of  his  artillery, 
when  a  cavalry-man  rode  up  and  reported  that  they  had  just 
captured  a  deserter. 


224  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

"  Where  is  he  ?  "  was  Stuart's  brief  interrogatory. 

"  Coming  yonder,  General." 

"  How  do  you  know  he  is  a  deserter  ? " 

"  One  of  my  company  knew  him  when  he  joined  our  army." 

"  Where  is  he  from  ?  " 

" county." 

And  the  man  mentioned  the  name  of  a  county  of  Western 
Virginia. 

"  What  is  his  name  ?  " 

"  M ." 

(I  suppress  the  full  name.  Some  mother's  or  sister's  heart 
might  be  wounded.) 

"Bring  him  up,"  said  Stuart  coldly,  with  a  lowering  glance, 
from  the  blue  eyes  under  the  brown  hat  and  black  feather.  As 
he  spoke,  two  or  three  mounted  men  rode  up  with  the  pri 
soner. 

I  can  see  him  at  this  moment  with  the  mind's  eye,  as  I  saw 
him  then  with  the  material  eye.  He  was  a  young  man,  appa 
rently  eighteen  or  nineteen  years  of  age,  and  wore  the  blue  uni 
form,  tipped  with  red,  of  a  private  in  the  United  States  Artillery. 
The  singular  fact  was  that  he  appeared  completely  at  his  ease. 
He  seemed  to  be  wholly  unconscious  of  the  critical  position 
which  he  occupied ;  and  as  he  approached,  I  observed  that  he 
returned  the  dark  glance  of  Stuart  with  the  air  of  a  man  who 
says,  "  What  do  you  find  in  my  appearance  to  make  you  fix  your 
eyes  upon  me  so  intently ! "  In  another  moment  he  was  in 
Stuart's  presence,  and  calmly,  quietly,  without  the  faintest  exhi 
bition  of  embarrassment,  or  any  emotion  whatever,  waited  to  be 
addressed. 

Stuart's  words  were  curtest  of  the  curt. 

"Is  this  the  man  ?  "  he  said. 

"Yes,  General,"  replied  one  of  the  escort. 

"  You  say  he  is  a  deserter  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir;  I  knew  him  in county,  when  he  joined  Cap 
tain  's  company ;  and  there  is  no  sort  of  doubt  about  it, 

General,  as  he  acknowledges  that  he  is  the  same  person." 

"Acknowledges  it!" 


A  DESERTBK.  225 

"  Yes,  sir;  acknowledges  that  he  is  M ,  from  that  county ; 

and  that  after  joining  the  South  he  deserted." 

Stuart  flashed  a  quick  glance  at  the  prisoner,  and  seemed  at  a 
loss  to  understand  what  fatuity  had  induced  him  to  testify  against 
himself — thereby  sealing  his  fate.  His  gaze — clear,  fiery,  menac 
ing — was  returned  by  the  youth  with  apathetic  calmness.  2sot 
a  muscle  of  his  countenance  moved,  and  I  now  had  an  oppor 
tunity  to  look  at  him  more  attentively.  He  was  even  younger 
than  I  at  first  thought  him — indeed,  a  mere  boy.  His  com 
plexion  was  fair;  his  hair  flaxen  and  curling;  his  eyes  blue, 
mild,  and  as  soft  in  their  expression  as  a  girl's.  Their  expres 
sion,  as  they  met  the  lowering  glances  of  Stuart,  was  almost 
confiding.  I  could  not  suppress  a  sigh — so  painful  was  the 
thought  that  this  youth  would  probably  be  lying  soon  with  a 
bullet  through  his  heart. 

A  kinder-hearted  person  than  General  Stuart  never  lived ;  but 
in  all  that  appertained  to  his  profession  and  duty  as  a  soldier,  he 
was  inexorable.  Desertion,  in  his  estimation,  was  one  of  the 
deadliest  crimes  of  which  a  human  being  could  be  guilty ;  and 
his  course  was  plain — his  resolution  immovable. 

"  What  is  your  name? "  said  the  General  coldly,  with  a  lower 
ing  brow. 

"  M ,  sir,"  was  the  response,  in  a  mild  and  pleasing  voice, 

in  which  it  was  impossible  to  discern  the  least  trace  of  emotion. 

"  Where  are  you  from  ?  " 

"  I  'belonged  to  the  battery  that  was  firing  at  you,  over  yon 
der,  sir." 

The  voice  had  not  changed.     A  calmer  tone  I  never  heard. 

"Where  were  you  born?"  continued  Stuart,  as  coldly  as 
before. 

"  In ,  Virginia,  sir." 

"Did  you  belong  to  the  Southern  army  at  any  time?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

The  coolness  of  the  speaker  was  incredible.  Stuart  could 
only  look  at  him  for  a  moment  in  silence,  so  astonishing  was 
this  equanimity  at  a  time  when  his  life  and  death  were  in  the 
balance.  Not  a  tone  of  the  voice,  a  movement  of  the  muscles, 

15 


226  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

or  a  tremor  of  the  lip  indicated  consciousness  of  his  danger. 
The  eye  never  quailed,  the  colour  in  his  cheek  never  faded. 
The  prisoner  acknowledged  that  he  was  a  deserter  from  the 
Southern  army  with  the  simplicity,  candour,  and  calmness  of 
one  who  saw  in  that  fact  nothing  extraordinary,  or  calculated  in 
any  manner  to  affect  his  destiny  unpleasantly.  Stuart's  eye 
flashed ;  he  could  not  understand  such  apathy ;  but  in  war  there 
is  little  time  to  investigate  psychological  phenomena. 

4 'So  you  were  in  our  ranks,  and  you  went  over  to  the  ene 
my  ? "  he  said  with  a  sort  of  growl. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  was  the  calm  reply. 

"  You  were  a  private  in  that  battery  yonder  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

Stuart  turned  to  an  officer,  and  pointing  to  a  tall  pine  near, 
said  in  brief  tones  : 

"  Hang  him  on  that  tree  !  " 

It  was  then  that  a  change — sudden,  awful,  horrible — came 
over  the  face  of  the  prisoner ;  at  that  moment  I  read  in  the  dis 
tended  eyeballs  the  "  vision  of  sudden  death."  The  youth  be 
came  ghastly  pale  ;  and  the  eyes,  before  so  vacant  and  apa 
thetic,  were  all  at  once  injected  with  blood,  and  full  of  piteous 
fright.  I  saw  in  an  instant  that  the  boy  had  not  for  a  single 
moment  realized  the  terrible  danger  of  his  position  ;  and  that 
the  words  "  Hang  him  on  that  tree!  "  had  burst  upon  him  with 
the  sudden  and  appalling  force  of  a  thunderbolt.  I  have  seen 
human  countenances  express  every  phase  of  agony;  seen  the 
writhing  of  the  mortally  wounded  as  their  life-blood  welled  out, 
and  the  horror  of  the  death-struggle  fixed  on  the  cold,  upturned 
faces  of  the  dead ;  but  never  have  I  witnessed  an  expression 
more  terrible  and  agonizing  than  that  which  passed  over  the 
face  of  the  boy-deserter,  as  he  thus  heard  his  sentence.  He  had 
evidently  regarded  himself  as  a  mere  prisoner  of  war ;  and  now 
he  was  condemned  to  death !  He  had  looked  forward,  doubt 
less,  to  mere  imprisonment  at  Richmond  until  regularly  ex 
changed,  when  "  hang  him  on  that  tree !  "  burst  upon  his  ears 
like  the  voice  of  some  avenging  Nemesis. 

Terrible,  piteous,  sickening,  was  the  expression  of  the  boy's 


A  DESERTER.  227 

face.  He  seemed  to  feel  already  the  rope  around  his  neck ;  he 
choked ;  when  he  spoke  his  voice  sounded  like  the  death-rattle. 
An  instant  of  horror-struck  silence ;  a  gasp  or  two  as  if  the 
words  were  trying  to  force  their  way  against  some  obstacle  in  his 
throat ;  then  the  sound  came.  His  tones  were  not  loud,  impas 
sioned,  energetic,  not  even  animated.  A  sick  terror  seemed  to 
have  frozen  him ;  when  he  spoke  it  was  in  a  sort  of  moan. 

"  I  didn't  know,"  he  muttered  in  low,  husky  tones.  "  I  never 
meant — when  I  went  over  to  Maryland — to  fight  against  the 
South.  They  made  me ;  I  had  nothing  to  eat — I  told  them  I 
was  a  Southerner — and  so  help  me  God  I  never  fired  a  shot.  I 
was  with  the  wagons.  Oh  !  General,  spare  me  ;  I  never " 

There  the  voice  died  out ;  and  as  pale  as  a  corpse,  trembling 
in  every  limb — a  spectacle  of  helpless  terror  which  no  words 
can  describe,  the  boy  awaited  his  doom. 

Stuart  had  listened  in  silence,  his  gaze  riveted  upon  the 
speaker ;  his  hand  grasping  his  heavy  beard ;  motionless  amid 
the  shell  which  were  bursting  around  him.  For  an  instant  he 
seemed  to  hesitate — life  and  death  were  poised  in  the  balances. 
Then  with  a  cold  look  at  the  trembling  deserter,  he  said  to  the 
men: 

"  Take  him  back  to  General  Lee,  and  report  the  circum 
stances." 

With  these  words  he  turned  and  galloped  off;  the  deserter 
was  saved,  at  least  for  the  moment. 

I  do  not  know  his  ultimate  fate ;  but  if  he  saw  General  Lee  in 
person,  and  told  his  tale,  I  think  he  was  spared.  That  great  and 
merciful  spirit  inflicted  the  death-penalty  only  when  he  could  not 
avoid  it. 

Since  that  day  I  have  never  seen  the  face  of  the  boy nor 

even  expect  to  see  it.  But  I  shall  never  forget  that  "  vision  of 
sudden  death"  in  his  distended  eyes,  as  Stuart's  cold  voice 
ordered,  "  Hang  him  on  that  tree." 


VI. 

A  YOUNG  VIRGINIAN  AND  HIS  SPURS. 


THERE  is  a  young  gentleman  in  Virginia  bearing  a  name  so 
illustrious  that,  if  I  were  to  give  it,  the  most  ardent  opponents 
of  the  "  F.  F.  V.'s"  would  take  a  certain  historic  interest  in  what 
I  am  going  to  relate.  When  I  say  that  he  is  called  Lieutenant 

W ,  you  cannot  possibly  guess  his  name.     But  to  the  curious 

incident  with  which  I  propose  to  amuse  those  readers  who  take 
an  interest  in  the  veritable  occurrences  of  the  great  struggle  just 
terminated. 

On  the  ninth  day  of  June,  1863,  there  took  place  at  Fleetwood 
Hill,  near  Brandy  Station,  in  Culpeper,  the  greatest  and  most 
desperate  cavalry  conflict  of  the  war.  Nearly  twenty-five  thou 
sand  horsemen  fought  there  "  all  a  summer's  day  " — as  when 
Earl  Percy  met  the  Douglas  in  the  glades  of  Chevy  Chase — and 
the  combat  was  of  unexampled  fury.  General  Stuart,  command 
ing  all  the  cavalry  of  General  Lee's  army,  had  held  a  grand 
review  some  days  before,  in  the  extensive  fields  below  the  Court- 
House,  and  a  mimic  battle  had  taken  place,  preceding  the  real 
one.  The  horse  artillery,  posted  on  a  hill,  fired  blank  cartridges 
as  the  cavalry  charged  the  guns  ;  the  columns  swept  by  a  great 
pole,  from  which  the  white  Confederate  flag  waved  proudly  in 
the  wind.  General  Lee,  with  his  grizzled  beard  and  old  gray 
riding-cape,  looked  on,  the  centre  of  all  eyes ;  bands  pla}^ed,  the 
artillery  roared,  the  charging  squadrons  shook  the  ground,  and 


A  YOUNG  VIRGINIAN  AND   HIS  SPURS.  229 

from  the  great  crowd  assembled  to  witness  the  imposing  specta 
cle  shone  the  variegated  dresses  and  bright  eyes  of  beautiful 
women,  rejoicing  in  the  heyday  of  the  grand  review. 

But  that  roar  of  artillery  in  the  mimic  battle  reached  other 
ears  than  those  for  which  it  was  intended.  There  were  some 
friends  of  ours  upon  the  opposite  shore  of  the  Kappahannock 
who  took  even  greater  interest  in  the  movements  of  General  Lee 
than  the  fair  daughters  of  Virginia.  The  thunder  of  the  artillery 
was  heard  by  them,  and  they  at  once  conceived  a  burning  curi 
osity  to  know  what  all  this  firing  meant.  So,  one  bright  morn 
ing  about  dawn,  they  came  across  the  river,  about  seventeen 
thousand  in  number,  to  see  what  u  Old  Uncle  Eobert"  was 
about.  Thereupon  followed  the  hard  fight  of  Fleetwood  Hill. 

A  description  of  this  long  and  desperate  struggle  is  no  portion 
of  the  present  subject.  The  Federal  forces  advanced  in  front, 
on  the  right  flank,  on  the  left  flank — everywhere.  The  battle 
was  thus  fought,  so  to  speak,  "  from  the  centre  outwards." 
What  the  eye  saw  as  Stuart  rapidly  fell  back  from  the  river  and 
concentrated  his  cavalry  for  the  defence  of  Fleetwood  Hill, 
between  him  and  Brandy,  was  a  great  and  imposing  spectacle  of 
squadrons  charging  in  every  portion  of  the  field — men  falling, 
cut  out  of  the  saddle  with  the  sabre ;  artillery  roaring,  carbines 
cracking — a  perfect  hurly-burly  of  conflict. 

Some  day,  perhaps,  the  present  historian  may  give  a  page  to 
this  hard  battle,  and  speak  of  its  "  moving  accidents  ; "  of  the 
manner  in  which  the  cannoneers  of  the  horse-artillery  met  and 
repulsed  a  charge  upon  their  guns  with  clubs  and  sponge-staffs ; 
how  that  gallant  spirit,  P.  M.  B.  Young,  of  Georgia,  met  the 
heavy  flanking  column  attacking  from  the  side  of  Stevensburg, 
and  swept  it  back  with  the  sabre ;  how  the  brave  William  H.  F. 
Lee  received  the  charge  upon  the  left  and  fell  in  front  of  his 
squadrons  at  the  moment  when  the  Federal  forces  broke ;  and 
how  Stuart,  on  fire  with  the  heat  of  battle,  was  everywhere  the 
soul  and  guiding  spirit  of  the  desperate  struggle. 

At  four  in  the  evening  the  assault  had  been  repulsed,  and  the 
Federal  cavalry  were  in  hasty  retreat  across  the  river  again. 
Many  prisoners  remained  in  the  hands  of  the  Confederates,  but 


230  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

they  had  also  lost  not  a  few  ;  for  the  fight  had  been  so  "  mixed 
up,"  and  so  many  small  detachments  of  the  Southern  cavalry  had 
been  cut  off  and  surrounded  in  the  metee,  that  the  captures  were 
considerable. 


II. 

Among  those  who  were  thus  cut  off  and  captured  in  this  wild 
struggle  made  up  of  dust,  smoke,  blood,  and  uproar,  was  Lieute 
nant  W .  His  horse  had  mired  in  the  swampy  ground  near 

the  Barbour  House,  and  he  was  incontinently  gobbled  up  by  his 
frienjds  in  the  blue  coats,  and  marched  to  the  rear,  that  is  to  say/ 

across  the  Rappahannock.     Lieutenant  "W was  an  excellent 

specimen  of  those  brave  youths  of  the  Valley  who  gathered  around 
Jackson  in  the  early  months  of  the  war,  and  in  the  hot  fights 
of  the  great  campaigns  against  Banks  and  Fremont  had  borne 
himself  with  courage  and  distinction.  Wounded  and  captured 
at  Kernstown — I  think  it  was — he  had  been  exchanged,  secured 
a  transfer  to  the  cavalry,  and  was  now  again  a  prisoner. 

He  was  conducted  across  the  Eappahannock  with  the  Confede 
rate  prisoners  captured  during  the  day,  and  soon  found  himself 
minus  horse,  pistol,  and  sabre — all  of  which  had.  of  course,  been 
taken  from  him — in  front  of  a  bonfire  on  the  north  bank  of  the 
river.  Around  this  fire  a  crowd  of  Federal  cavalry-men  were 
now  assembled,  discussing  the  events  of  the  day,  and  many  of 
them  entered  into  conversation  with  the  prisoners,  their  late  ad 
versaries.  Lieutenant  W—  -  was  standing  by  the  fire,  no  doubt 
reflecting  upon  the  curious  "  ups  and  downs"  of  that  curious 
trade  called  war,  when  all  at  once  something  familiar  in  the 
voice  of  a  young  officer  of  the  Federal  force,  who  was  not  far 
from  him,  attracted  his  attention.  Looking  at  the  officer  closely, 
he  recognised  in  him  an  old  friend  of  his  who  had  formerly  re 
sided  in  Baltimore ;  and  going  up  to  him,  the  young  Virginian 
made  himself  known. 

He  was  greeted  with  the  utmost  pleasure,  and  the  youths 
shook  hands,  laughing  like  boys  at  the  odd  meeting.  If  I  were 


A  YOUNG   VIRGINIAN   AND   HIS  SPURS.  231 

a  novelist  instead  of  an  historian,  my  dear  reader,  I  would  here 
insert  a  lengthy  dialogue  between  the  friends ;  but  not  having 

been  present,  I  can  only  give  you  the  bare  outline  of  W Js 

adventure.  From  talk  about  old  scenes,  and  things  of  the  past, 
the  conversation  glided  to  the  present,  and  the  young  Virginian's 
unlucky  situation.  Belying  upon  their  former  friendship,  the 
latter  at  once  broached  the  subject  of  his  escape. 

"  I  wish  I  could  help  you,"  was  the  reply ;  "  but  I  see  no 
sort  of  chance  of  your  getting  away,  W ." 

"  I  think  I  can  get  off  in  the  dark." 

"  Perhaps ;  but  crossing  the  river  is  the  difficulty.  The  bridge 
is  picketed." 

The  young  Virginian,  nevertheless,  determined  to  make  the 
attempt.  From  that  moment  he  kept  a  close  watch  on  the  move 
ments  of  his  captors.  Having  eaten  their  suppers,  they  now 
addressed  themselves  to  the  task  of  counting,  assorting,  and 
taking  down  the  names  of  their  prisoners.  The  latter  were 
drawn  up  in  a  line  near  the  fire,  and  a  Federal  officer  went  along 
the  line,  entering  their  names  and  regiments  in  his  memorandum- 
book.  Lieutenant  W was  near  the  head  of  the  line,  and 

having  given  his  name  and  regiment — the  Twelth  Virginia  Ca 
valry — saw  the  officer  pass  on.  I  have  called  him  Lieutenant 

W ,  but  the  young  man  was  at  that  time  a  private ;  and  at 

the  announcement  of  his  historic  name  the  Federal  soldiers  began 
to  laugh,  one  of  them  saying  "  The  Old  Dominion  must  be  hard 
up  when  her  aristocracy  have  to  go  in  the  ranks  and  wear  a 

jacket  like  that !  "  And  he  pointed  to  W 's  old,  discoloured 

cavalry  jacket. 

The  young  man  was,  however,  not  thinking  of  the  jokes  of  his 
captors ;  he  was  watching  his  opportunity  to  glide  out  of  the 
line.  It  soon  came.  The  Federal  soldiers  were  not  looking  at 
him ;  the  recording  officer  had  passed  around  the  fire,  the  light 
of  which  thus  shone  for  an  instant  in  his  eyes  and  dazzled  him, 
and  Lieutenant  W—  -  saw  his  opportunity.  The  space  outside 
of  the  firelight  was  as  gloomy  as  Eblis,  and  in  a  moment  he  had 
stepped  from  his  place,  and  was  lost  in  the  darkness.  He  glided 
behind  a  tent,  ran  a  few  steps,  and  then  paused  to  listen* 


232  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

Had  his  movement  been  observed  ?  Would  they  go  over  the 
count  again,  to  verify  the  record  ?  Then  one  man  would  be  found 
missing ;  he  would  be  at  once  pursued,  recaptured,  and  rewarded 
for  his  attempt  to  escape  by  painful  or  ignominious  punishment. 
He  listened  with  all  his  ears ;  held  his  breath,  and  soon  found 
that  he  was  not  missed.  The  officer  did  not  suspect  the  ruse 
which  had  been  played  upon  him;  and  the  prisoners  were 
marched  off  under  guard.  Lieutenant  W—  -  saw  them  disap 
pear  with  profound  satisfaction,  and  then  all  his  energies  were 
bent  to  the  hard  task  of  getting  out  of  the  Federal  camp  and 
crossing  the  river.  The  prospect  looked  sufficiently  dispiriting. 
He  was  in  the  centre  of  a  city  of  tents,  where  he  could  not  stir 
a  step  without  attracting  attention ;  and  even  if  he  succeeded  in* 
escaping  the  vigilance  of  the  men  and  the  quarter-guard,  the 
broad  and  deep  current  of  the  Eappahannock  lay  still  in  his 
path — the  single  bridge  heavily  picketed.  The  young  man  did 
not  lose  heart  for  a  single  moment,  however,  and,  like  a  good 
soldier,  determined  to  "take  the  chances/' 

The  first  thing  was  to  conceal  his  identity  from  the  men  around 
the  fires.  He  accordingly  took  off  his  gray  jacket,  and  rolling 
it  up,  put  it  under  his  arm.  His  pantaloons  were  blue,  and  his 
hat  was  of  an  indefinable  colour,  which  might  be  either  Confe 
derate  or  Federal.  In  his  bosom,  between  his  shirt  and  naked 
breast,  he  concealed  his  spurs,  which  he  had  unbuckled  and 
hidden  when  he  was  captured.  Having  thus  prepared  himself, 

Lieutenant  W walked  boldly  on,  and  lounged  carelessly  by 

the  fires.  One  of  the  men  asked  him  what  regiment  he  belonged 
to,  as  if  they  observed  something  unfamiliar  in  his  demeanour ; 
but  his  ready  reply,  giving  the  name  of  some  Federal  regiment, 
entirely  disarmed  suspicion.  So  much  cavalry  had  taken  part  in 

the  fight,  and  it  had  been  so  much  scattered,  that  W- was 

set  down  for  one  of  the  many  stragglers ;  and  walking  by  the 
fires,  and  the  quarter-guard,  who  stared  at,  but  did  not  challenge 
him,  he  gained  the  bank  of  the  Eappahannock. 

He  had  thus  succeeded  in  his  second  attempt ;  but  obstacle 
number  three  threatened  to  be  more  serious.  The  river  before 
hirn  was  broad,  deep,  black,  and  cold.  The  bridge  near  by  was 


A  YOUNG  VIRGINIAN  AND  HIS  SPURS.  233 

guarded ;  he  heard  the  sentinel  pacing  to  and  fro,  and  a  second 
at  the  farther  extremity.  What  was  to  be  done  ?  Kill  the  sen 
tinel  by  suddenly  attacking  and  seizing  his  weapon?  That, 
under  other  circumstances,  might  have  been  done  ;  but  there  was 
the  other  sentinel,  who  would  at  once  give  the  alarm ;  then  recap 
ture,  and  a  "  latter  end  worse  than  the  first."  This  plan  was  thus 
out  of  the  question.  But  one  hope  presented  itself.  The  fugitive 
could  not  swim  the  river ;  but  if  by  any  means  he  could  climb  up 
to  the  floor  of  the  bridge  inside  of  the  sentinel,  he  might,  perhaps, 
crawl  along  without  being  discovered,  u  flank  "  the  sentinel  be 
yond,  and  so  get  back  to  his  friends.  Young,  lithe,  and  deter 
mined,  Lieutenant  W speedily  made  a  reconnoissance  of  the 

abutments  of  the  bridge  to  ascertain  the  possibility  of  executing 
his  project.  To  his  great  satisfaction  he  discovered  a  pipe  run 
ning  from  a  tank  above  to  the  water  below — for  this  was  the 
Orange  and  Alexandria  Eailroad  bridge  ;  and  the  rivets  securing 
the  pipe  to  the  masonry  afforded  him  an  excellent  foothold  in 
climbing.  Gliding  beneath  the  sentinel  in  the  darkness,  he  crept 
into  the  shadow,  grasped  the  pipe,  and,  with  hands  and  knees, 
climbed  foot  by  foot  up  the  abutment,  until  he  had  reached  the 
edge  of  the  floor-way.  His  hands  were  torn  and  his  knees  lace 
rated,  but  he  had  taken  another  step  toward  liberty. 

What  now  remained  to  be  done  was  to  crawl  along  the  narrow 
edge  of  the  parapet,  under  shadow  of  a  species  of  low  railing, 
and  crossing  the  bridge,  pass  around  the  other  sentinel  in  some 
manner,  and  escape.  This,  however,  was  the  most  doubtful,  as  it 
was  certainly  the  most  dangerous  portion  of  the  adventure.  The 
bridge  was  very  lofty,  the  ledge  narrow,  slippery,  and  unprotected 
for  he  must  move  outside  of  the  railing  for  fear  of  discovery  ;  a  sin 
gle  false  step  would  precipitate  him  into  the  river  beneath.  Even 
if  this  danger  were  avoided,  there  was  the  sentinel  beyond,  and  a 

picket,  doubtless,  beyond  the  sentinel.     Lieutenant  W was 

revolving  in  his  mind  these  various  circumstances,  and  had  begun 
to  take  a  rather  discouraging  view  of  things,  when  his  attention 
was  attracted  by  the  sound  of  steps  coming  from  the  direction 
of  the  Federal  camp.  A  detachment  of  dismounted  men  were 
evidently  approaching  the  bridge,  and  in  a  few  moments  the 


234:  WEARING    OF  THE    GRAY. 

voice  of  the  sentinel  was  heard  giving  the  challenge.  "  Relief," 
was  the  reply  ;  and  then  came,  "  Advance  relief!  "  which  was  im 
mediately  followed  by  the  appearance  of  the  relief-guard.  The  new 
sentinel  was  relieved  from  his  post,  and  took  his  place  among  the 
guard,  one  of  whom  was  posted,  and  the  detachment  was  heard 
tramping  across  the  bridge  to  relieve  in  the  same  manner  the  other 
sentinels.  As  they  came  on,  tramp  !  tramp !  like  the  statue  of 
the  commander  in  "  Don  Giovanni,"  the  young  Virginian  con 
ceived  an  idea  as  bold  as  it  was  original.  It  was  difficult  to  crawl 
along  the  narrow  ledge  without  falling  into  the  black  gulf  below, 
and  it  was  questionable  whether  any  friendly  water-pipe  would  en 
able  him  to  "  flank  "  the  sentinel  at  the  opposite  extremity  of  the 
bridge.  Why  not  u  fall  in  "  in  the  darkness  with  the  unsuspecting 
detachment,  pass  through  the  guard  beyond,  and  then  take  the 
chances  of  making  his  escape  ?  His  resolution  was  at  once  taken  ; 
and  as  the  guard  came  opposite  his  place  of  concealment  behind 
the  low  wood- work  of  the  railing,  he  crouched  lower,  waited  until 
they  had  passed,  and  then  quietly  stepping  over  the  railing,  fell  in 
behind.  The  movement  had  been  undiscovered ;  he  was  now 
advancing  with  measured  step  to  "  assist,"  as  the  French  say,  at 
relieving  the  "  Old  Guard  "  on  the  bridges — himself  as  honorary 
member  of  the  relief. 

His  ruse  was  crowned  with  complete  success.  He  passed  with 
the  detachment  undiscovered  to  a  point  beyond  the  bridge  ;  and 
then  stepping  from  the  ranks — a  manoeuvre  which  the  pitch 
darkness  rendered  by  no  means  difficult — he  concealed  himself 
until  the  unsuspecting  Federals  disappeared.  He  then  crawled  on 
his  hands  and  knees,  crouching  close  to  the  ground  by  another 
picket  which  he  saw  upon  the  road,  and  reaching  a  point  where 
he  believed  himself  beyond  range,  rose  to  his  feet  and  com 
menced  moving.  All  at  once  he  saw  before  him  another  picket- 
fire  ;  and  not  knowing  whether  it  was  that  of  friends  or  enemies, 
he  again  crouched  down  and  slowly  approached  the  fire,  crawl 
ing  upon  his  chest  along  the  surface  of  the  ground. 

He  had  succeeded  too  well  up  to  this  time  to  risk  anything ; 
and  he  accordingly  continued  to  u  snake  along  "  toward  the  fire, 
in  order  to  discover,  before  making  himself  known,  whether  the 


A  YOUNG   VIRGINIAN  AND  HIS  SPURS.  235 

ground  around  it  were  friends  or  enemies.  In  this  slow  and 
cautious  manner  he  approached  until  he  was  within  ten  yards  of 
it ;  where,  hidden  behind  a  stump,  he  attentively  reconnoitred. 
The  result  was  indecisive.  He  could  not  possibly  succeed  in. 
discovering  whether  the  pickets  were  Federal  or  Confederate ; 

and  in  relating  his  adventure   afterwards,   Lieutenant  W 

declared  that  his  heart  now  throbbed  with  greater  anxiety  than 
at  any  other  time  during  the  whole  affair.  He  continued  for 
some  time  thus  crouching  behind  the  stump,  and  his  doubt  was 
painful  and  protracted.  At  last  it  came  to  an  end  ;  he  breathed 
freely  again.  One  of  the  men  rose  from  the  ground,  yawned, 
and  said  :  "I  don't  believe  there  will  be  a  Yankee  on  this  side 
of  the  river  by  the  morning." 

Whereupon  Lieutenant  W rose  up,  approached  the  fire, 

and,  with  a  laugh,  made  himself  known,  to  the  profound  asto 
nishment  and  confusion  of  the  sleepy  pickets,  who  had  thus 
received  a  practical  illustration  of  the  ease  with  which  an  enemy 
might  approach  and  send  a  bullet  through  their  hearts.  They, 

however,  received  Lieutenant  W with  military  hospitality, 

gave  him  a  portion  of  their  rations,  divided  their  blankets  ;  and 
overcome  with  fatigue,  he  lay  down  and  slept  until  daylight. 
Before  sunrise  he  was  at  General  Stuart's  headquarters,  and  was 
relating  his  curious  adventure,  to  the  huge  amusement  of  the 
laughing  cavalier.  He  was  without  horse,  arms,  or  other  clothes 
than  those  which  he  wore  ;  but  he  was  free,  and  he  had  his  spurs, 
carried  throughout  against  his  naked  breast. 

Such  was  the  adventure  of  Lieutenant  W ,  and  such  the 

means  he  used  in  making  his  escape.  The  narrative  may  appear 
romantic,  but  I  assure  the  reader  that  it  is  literally  true. 


VII. 
TO  GETTYSBURG  AND  BACK  AGAIN. 


"Ho!  for  the  Valley  !" 

This  was  the  somewhat  dramatic  exclamation  of  Major-Gene 
ral  J.  E.  B.  Stuart,  about  the  24th  of  June,  1863,  as  he  got  into 
the  saddle  at  the  little  village  of  Kector's  Cross-Heads,  between 
Middleburg  and  Upperville,  and  turned  his  horse's  head  west 
ward  toward  the  Blue  Ridge  mountains. 

If  the  worthy  reader  will  return  in  memory  to  that  epoch,  and 
recall  the  route  which  the  gay  cavalier  speedily  directed  his 
column  over,  the  words  above  quoted  will  appear  somewhat 
mysterious.  "  The  situation  "  at  the  moment  may  be  described 
in  a  very  few  words ;  for  the  full  record,  see  the  "historian  of 
the  future."  After  the  crushing  defeat  of  Chancellorsville, 
General  Hooker  cut  behind  him  the  pontoons  covered  with  pine 
boughs,  to  deaden  the  noise  of  his  artillery  wheels  in  crossing, 
and  took  up  a  strong  position  on  the  northern  bank  of  the  Rap- 
pahannock  to  repulse  the  expected  onslaught  of  his  great  adver 
sary,  Lee.  ISTo  such  attack,  however,  was  intended.  Lee  pre 
ferred  to  manoeuvre  his  opponent  out  of  Virginia — it  was  the 
more  bloodless  proceeding — and  very  soon  the  soldiers  of,  the 
army  understood  that  "Lee  was  moving.17 

A  grand  review  of  the  cavalry  was  ordered,  near  Culpeper 
Court-House,  and  General  Fitz  Lee  politely  sent  an  invitation  to 
General  Hood  to  attend  it,  and  "bring  any  of  his  friends."  A 
day  or  two  afterwards,  Hood  appeared  with  his  great  division, 


TO   GETTYSBURG  AND  BACK  AGAIN.  237 

announcing  that  these  were  all  "  his  friends,"  and  he  thought  he 
would  bring  them  along.     The  review  duly  took  place  east  of 
the  Court- House.     The  squadrons  of  cavalry  charged — General 
Stuart  and  his  staff  in  front;  cannon  thundered  in  mimic  con 
flict;   the   sun   shone;  bright  eyes   flashed;    and  beneath   the 
Confederate  banner,  rippling  on  its  lofty  pole,  the  Commander- 
in-Chief  sat  his  iron-gray,  looking  on.     Festivities  at  the  Court- 
House  followed ;  the  youngsters  of  the  arrny  had  a  gay  dance 
with  the  young  ladies  from  the  country  round ;  and  almost  in 
the  midst  of  the  revelry,  as  at  Brussels  on  the  night  of  "Waterloo, 
the  thunder  of  artillery  was  heard  from  the  direction  of  Fleet- 
wood  Hill,  near  Brandy.     In  fact,  Stuart  had  been  assailed  there 
by  the  elite  of  the  Federal  infantry  and  cavalry,  under  some  of 
their  ablest  commanders — the  object  of  the  enemy  being  to  as 
certain,  by  reconnoissance  in  force,  what  all  the  hubbub  of  the 
review  signified — and  throughout  the  long  June  day,  they  threw 
themselves,    with   desperate    gallantry,    against    the    Southern 
horse — no  infantry  on  our  side  taking  part  in  the  action.    Colonel 
Williams  was  killed;    Captain  Farley,   of  Stuart's   staff,   was 
killed ;  Captain  White,  of  the  staff,  too,  was  wounded ;  Colonel 
Butler  was  wounded ;  General  W.  H.  F.  Lee  was  shot  down  at 
the  head  of  his  charging  column ;  and  Stuart  himself  was  more 
than  once  completely  surrounded.     For  three  hours  the  battle 
was  "  touch  and  go ;  "  but  thanks  to  the  daring  charges  of  Young 
and  Lee,  the  enemy  were  driven ;  they  slowly  and  sullenly  re 
tired,  leaving  the  ground  strewed  with  their  dead,  and  at  night 
fall  were  again  beyond  the  Kappahannock. 

The  trumpet  of  .battle  had  thus  been  sounded  ;  action  followed. 
Lee  put  his  columns  in  motion  for  Pennsylvania  ;  Stuart  ad 
vanced  with  his  cavalry  to  hold  the  country  east  of  the  Blue 
Kidge,  and  guard  the  passes  as  the  long  column  moved  through ; 
and  then  commenced  a  war  of  the  giants  between  the  opposing 
horse  of  the  Federal  and  Confederate  armies.  It  was  a  matter  of 
grave  importance  that  Hooker  should  undo  the  designs  of  Lee ; 
and  mighty  efforts  were  made  to  burst  through  the  cavalry 
cordon,  and  strike  the  flank  of  the  moving  army.  Stuart  was, 
however,  in  the  way.  On  all  the  roads  was  his  omnipresent 


i 


238  WEARING    OF  THE    GRAY. 

cavalry,  under  the  daring  Hampton,  Fitz  Lee,  the  gay  and  gal 
lant  cavalier,  and  others  as  resolute.     Everywhere  the  advance 
of  the  enemy's  cavalry  was  met  and  driven  back,  until  about  the 
twentieth  of  June.     Then  a  conclusive  trial  of  strength  took 
place.     A  grand  reconnoitring  force,  composed  of  a  division  of 
infantry  under  General  Birney,  I  believe,  and  several  divisions 
of  cavalry,  with  full  supports  of  artillery,  was  pushed  forward 
from  Aldie ;  Stuart  was  assailed   simultaneously  along   about 
fifteen  miles  of  front ;  and  in  spite  of  his  most  strenuous  efforts, 
he  was  forced  slowly  to  fall  back  toward  the  Kidge.     This  was 
one  of  the  most  stubborn  conflicts  of  the  war;  and  on  every 
hill,  from  the  summit  of  every  knoll,  Stuart  fought  with  artil 
lery,  cavalry,  and  dismounted  sharpshooters,  doggedly  struggling 
to  hold  his  ground.     The  attempt  was  vain.     Behind  the  heavy 
lines  of  Federal  skirmishers  advanced  their  dense  columns  of 
cavalry  ;  behind  the  cavalry  were  seen  the  bristling  bayonets  of 
their  infantry ;  from  the  right,  the  left,  and  the  front,  thundered 
their  excellently  served  artillery.     Stuart  was  pushed  from  hill 
to  hill,  the  enemy  came  on  mile  after  mile,  and  at  Upperville  a 
great  disaster  seemed  imminent.     The  Federal  forces  closed  in 
on  front  and  flanks,  made  a  desperate  attack  with  the  sabre, 
and  the  result  seemed  about  to  be  decided.     Stuart  was  in  the 
very  hottest  of  the  press,  sword  in  hand,  determined  evidently 
to  repulse  the  enemy  or  die,  and  his  black  feather  was  the  mark 
of  a  hundred  pistol-balls — his  rich  uniform  clearly  indicating 
his  rank  to  the  Federal  troopers  almost  in  contact  with  him. 
This  was  the  depressing  situation  of  affairs — the  centre  driven, 
and  the  column  on  the  Bloomfield  road  falling  rapidly  back  on 
the  left,  thus  exposing  the  main  body  to  imminent  danger  of 
being  cut  off,  when  the  Deus  ex  machind  appeared  in  the  person 
of  Wade  Hampton.    That  good  cavalier  saw  the  crisis,  formed  his 
column  under  the  heavy  fire,  and  taking  command  in  person, 
went  at  them  with  the  sabre,  scarcely  firing  a  shot.     The  result 
was  that  the  Federal    line   was   swept  back,  the   elite  of  the 
charging  force  put  hors  du  combat  by  the  edge  of  the  sabre,  and 
the  Southern  column  fell  back  toward  Paris,  in  the  mouth  of 
Ashby's  Gap,  without  further  difficulty. 


TO   GETTYSBURG  AND   BACK  AGAIN.  239 

The  enemy  had  accomplished  their  object,  and  they  had  not 
accomplished  it.  Stuart  was  forced  to  retire,  but  they  had  not 
succeeded  in  penetrating  to  the  Ridge.  ISTo  doubt  the  presence  of 
infantry  there  was  discovered  or  suspected,  but  otherwise  the 
great  reconnoissance  was  unproductive  of  substantial  results. 

On  the  same  night  they  retired.  Stuart  followed  them  at 
dawn  with  his  whole  force  ;  and  by  mid-day  he  was  in  possession 
of  Middleburg,  several  miles  in  advance  of  his  position  on  the 
day  before. 

Such  was  the  quick  work  of  these  two  days. 


II. 

It  was  about  three  days  after  these  events  that  Stuart  sprang 
with  a  gay  laugh  to  saddle,  turned  his  horse's  head  ivestward, 
and  uttered  that  exclamation  : 

"  Ho  !  for  the  Valley  !  " 

ISTow,  if  the  reader  will  permit,  I  beg  to  descend  from  the 
lofty  heights  of  historic  summary  to  the  level  champaign  of  my 
personal  observations  and  adventures.  From  the  heights  alluded 
to,  you  see  a  long  distance,  and  distinguish  the  u  important 
events  "  in  grand  outline  ;  but  in  the  level  you  are  greeted  by 
more  of  the  colouring  of  what  occurs.  In  this  paper  I  design 
recording  some  scenes  and  incidents  as  they  passed  before  my 
own  eyes,  rather  than  to  sum  up  facts  in  "official"  form.  A 
memoir  rather  than  a  history  is  intended ;  and  as  a  human 
being  can  only  remember  what  he  has  seen  and  felt,  the  present 
writer — even  at  the  risk  of  being  charged  with  egotism-— is  going 
to  confine  himself,  as  closely  as  possible,  to  his  own  adventures 
and  impressions  de  voyage. 

"Ho  for  the  Valley  !  "  was  a  truly  delightful  exclamation  to 
me.  Bright  eyes  of  various  colours  shone  there  by  the  Shenan- 
doah  and  Opequon  ;  there  were  some  voices  whose  music  I  had 
not  heard  for  a  long  time.  The  prospect  now  of  seeing  the  eyes, 
and  hearing  the  voices,  banished  every  other  thought,  even  the 
remembrance  of  that  heavy  misfortune  of  having  had  my  mili- 


240  WEARING   OF  THE  GRAY. 

tary  satchel,  with  all  I  possessed  in  the  way  of  a  wardrobe,  cap 
tured  by  the  enemy  a  few  days  before  when  they  drove  us  from 
the  Cross-Eoads.  There  could  certainly  be  no  doubt  about  the 
General's  meaning.  He  had  turned  his  horse  toward  the  Eidge. 
"  Ho  !  for  the  Yalley  !  "  indicated  his  intended  line  of  inarch ; 
he,  like  myself,  was  going  to  see  his  good  friends  all  in  that  land 
of  lands  along  the  Shenandoah. 

Alas !  and  whenever  that  pithy  word  is  employed  by  a  writer, 
the  reader  knows  what  he  has  to  expect.  General  Stuart  had 
scarcely  got  out  of  sight  of  the  village,  carolling  a  gay  song  as 
he  rode,  when  the  disconsolate  staff-officer  beside  him  observed  a 
movement  of  the  General's  left  rein  ;  his  horse  cleared  a  fence  ; 
and  ten  minutes  afterwards  he  was  riding  rapidly  eastward,  in^  a 
direction  precisely  opposite  to  the  Blue  Eidge.  The  General  had 
practised  a  little  ruse  to  blind  the  eyes  of  the  Cross-Eoads  villagers 
— was  doubling  on  the  track ;  he  was  going  after  General 
Hooker,  then  in  the  vicinity  of  Manassas,  and  thence — whither  ? 

We  bivouacked  by  the  roadside  under  some  pines  that  night, 
advanced  before  dawn,  drove  a  detachment  of  the  enemy  from 
Glasscock's  Gap,  in  the  Bull  Eun  mountain,  and  pushed  on  to 
cut  off  any  force  which  lingered  in  the  gorge  of  Thoroughfare  Gap. 
When  cavalry  undertake  to  cut  off  infantry,  the  process  is  excit 
ing,  but  not  uniformly  remunerative.  It  was  the  rear  of  Han 
cock's  corps  which  we  struck  not  far  from  Haymarket ;  there, 
passing  rapidly  toward  Manassas,  about  eight  hundred  yards  off, 
were  the  long  lines  of  wagons  and  artillery  ;  and  behind  these 
came  on  the  dense  blue  masses  of  infantry,  the  sunshine  lighting 
up  their  burnished  bayonets. 

Stuart  hastened  forward  his  artillery  ;  it  opened  instantly  upon 
the  infantry,  and  the  first  shot  crashed  into  a  caisson,  making  the 
horses  rear  and  run  ;  the  infantry  line  bending  backward  as 
though  the  projectile  had  struck  it.  This  "  good  shot "  highly 
delighted  the  General,  who  turned  round  laughing,  and  called 
attention  to  the  accuracy  of  the  fire.  The  individual  addressed 
laughed  in  response,  but  replied,  "  Look  out,  though  ;  they  are 
going  to  enfilade  you  from  that  hill  on  the  right,  General." 
"  Oh !  I  reckon  not,"  responded  the  General  ;  but  he  had  scarce- 


TO  GETTYSBURG  AND  BACK  AGAIN.  241 

ly  spoken  when  a  puff  of  white  smoke  rose  from  the  wooded 
knoll  in  question,  and  a  shot  screamed  by,  just  grazing  the  top 
of  one  of  our  caissons  near  the  guns.  This  was  followed  by 
another  and  another ;  the  enemy  were  seen  hastily  forming 
line,  and  advancing  sharpshooters ;  whereupon  Stuart  ordered 
back  his  guns,  and  dismounted  cavalry  to  meet  them.  . 

A  running  fight ;  enemy  merely  holding  their  flank  intact ; 
soon  the  line  had  passed  on  and  disappeared ;  the  cavalry  saw 
vanish  safely  all  those  tantalizing  wagons  filled  with  good,  rich 
forage,  and  who  knew  what  beside.  Stuart  meanwhile  had  sent 
off  Mosby,  with  a  party  of  picked  men,  to  reconnoitre,  and  was 
sleeping  with  his  head  upon  an  officer's  breast — to  the  very 
extreme  discomfort  of  that  personage,  whose  profound  respect  for 
his  sleepy  military  superior  prevented  him  from  changing  his 
position. 

With  night  came  rain,  and  the  General  and  his  staff  were 
invited  to  the  handsome  mansion  of  Dr. — r — ,  near  Bucklands, 
where  all  slept  under  cover  but  Stuart.  Everywhere  he  insisted 
on  faring  like  his  men  ;  and  I  well  remember  the  direction  given 
to  his  body-servant  a  few  days  before,  to  spread  his  blankets 
under  a  tree  on  a  black  and  stormy  night  with  the  rain  descend 
ing  in  torrents — the  house  in  which  he  had  established  bis  head 
quarters  being  only  twenty  paces  from  the  tree.  On  this  night 
at  Bucklands  he  repeated  the  ceremony,  but  a  gay  supper  pre 
ceded  it. 

That  supper  is  one  of  the  pleasant  memories  the  present  writer 
has  of  the  late  war.  How  the  good  companions  laughed  and 
devoured  the  viands  of  the  hospitable  host !  How  the  beautiful 
girls  of  the  family  stood  with  mock  submission,  servant- wise, 
behind  the  chairs,  and  waited  on  the  guests  with  their  sweetest 
smiles,  until  that  reversal  of  all  the  laws  of  the  universe  became 
a  perfect  comedy,  and  ended  in  an  eclat  of  laughter  !  General 
and  staff  waited  in  turn  on  the  waiters;  and  when  the  tired 
troopers  fell  asleep  on  the  floor  of  the  portico,  it  is  certain  that  a 
number  of  bright  eyes  shone  in  their  dreams.  Such  is  the 
occasional  comedy  which  lights  up  the  tragedy  of  war. 

The  bugle  sounded ;  we  got  into  the  saddle  again ;  the  col- 

16 


242  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

umns  moved ;  and  that  evening  we  had  passed  around  Manassas, 
where  Hooker's  rear  force  still  lingered,  and  were  approaching 
Fairfax  Station  through  the  great  deserted  camps  near  Wolf 
Eun  Shoals.  The  advance  pushed  on  through  the  wild  and 
desolate  locality,  swarming  with  abandoned  cabins  and  army 
debris ;  and  soon  we  had  reached  the  station,  which  is  not  far 
from  the  Court- House. 

Here  took  place  a  little  incident,  known  afterwards  among  the 
present  writer's  friends  as  the  u  Cherry-Pie  Breakfast."  A  brief 
notice  of  this  historic  occurrence  may  entertain  the  reader. 
Three  members  of  the  staff  and  a  young  courier  left  the  column 
to  seek  a  blacksmith,  whose  services  were  needed ;  and  the  house 
of  this  worthy  was  found  about  half  a  mile  east  of  the  station* 
He  was  a  friend  of  the  gray,  prompt  and  courteous,  and  soon 
was  busy  at  the  hoofs  of  the  horses ;  his  good  wife  meanwhile 
getting  breakfast  for  the  party.  It  was  speedily  served,  and 
consisted  of  every  delicacy — bread  of  all  descriptions,  fresh  but 
ter,  yellow  cream,  sweetmeats,  real  coffee,  then  an  extreme 
luxury,  and  some  cherry  pies,  which  caused  the  wandering  staff 
officers  to  break  forth  into  exclamations  of  rapture.  A  heavy 
attack  was  made  upon  all,  and  our  "bluebird"  friends  them 
selves,  fond  as  they  are  said  to  be  of  the  edible,  could  not  have 
surpassed  the  devotion  exhibited  toward  the  cherry  pies.  At 
the  end  of  the  repast  one  of  the  party,  in  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
moment,  piled  up  several  pieces  of  the  pie,  drew  out  his  purse, 
and  determined  to  carry  off  the  whole  for  future  consumption ; 
whereat  a  friendly  contest  occurred  between  himself  and  the 
excellent  dame,  who  could  not  be  induced  to  receive  pay  from 
any  member  of  the  party  for  her  entertainment.  u  She  had 
never  charged  a  Confederate  soldier  a  cent,  and  never  meant  to." 

All  this  was  peaceful  and  pleasing ;  but  all  at  once  there  was 
a  stir  in  the  yard,  and  without  securing  the  pie,  we  went  out. 
Lo !  a  gentleman  in  a  blue  coat  and  mounted  was  seen  rapidly 
approaching  below  the  house,  followed  by  others. 

"  Look  out !  "  said  Major  V ;  "  there  are  the  Yankees !  " 

"They  are  running  by — they  won't  stop.  What  are  you 
going  to  do  ?  "  I  said. 


TO   GETTYSBURG  AND   BACK  AGAIN.  243 

"  I  am  going  to  put  the  bridle  on  my  horse  !  " 
And  the  Major  bridled  up  and  mounted  rapidly. 
"  Well,  I  am  going  to  wait  to  have  the  shoes  put  on  mine." 
Idle  and  absurd  intent!     Even  as  I  spoke,  the  party  scat 
tered,  Major  V—    -  galloping  to  the  right,  Major  Me to 

the  left,  with  the  courier.  A  single  glance  revealed  the  "  situ 
ation."  Another  party  of  Blue-coats  were  rushing  at  full  gallop 
toward  the  house  from  above.  Shots  suddenly  resounded. 
"  Hi !  hi !  halt !  "  followed ;  and  I  had  just  time  to  mount  and 
pass  at  full  speed  across  th,e  front  of  the  party,  pursued  by  more 
shots  and  "  hi-hi's !  "  Admire,  reader,  the  spectacle  of  the  stam 
peded  staff  officers !  My  friend  in  front  resembled  the  worthy 
Gilpin,  with  a  pistol  holster  for  the  jug — his  horse's  tail  "  float 
ing  free,"  and  every  nail  in  the  hind  shoes  of  the  animal  visible 
as  he- darted  headlong  toward  the  protecting  woods!  "We 
plunged  through  a  swamp,  jumped  fences  and  fallen  trees,  and 
reaching  the  forest-cover,  penetrated  a  thicket,  and  stopped  to 
listen.  The  shouts  died  away;  no  sound  of  hoofs  came,  and 
doubling  back,  we  came  again  to  the  station  to  find  the  meaning 
of  everything.  Stuart  had  been  quietly  waiting  there  for  his 
column,  with  the  bridle  out  of  his  horse's  mouth,  in  order  that 
the  animal  might  champ  some  "  Yankee  oats,"  when  all  at  once  a 
scouting-party  had  come  at  full  gallop  from  the  direction  of  the 
Court-House.  Before  he  was  aware  of  their  approach,  they 
were  nearly  upon  him  ;  he  had  just  had  time  to  escape  by  seizing 
the  halter  and  digging  the  spurs  into  his  horse. 

Then  the  scouting  party,  finding  the  size  of  the  hornets'  nest 
into  which  they  had  leaped,  turned  their  horses'  heads  eastward, 
bore  down  on  the  blacksmith's  whither  we  had  gone,  interrupted 
the  "  cherry-pie  breakfast,"  and  vanished  toward  Sanxter's,  chas 
ing  Major  Y-  -  until  he  came  up  with  Munford.  When  our 
probable  capture  was  announced  to  General  Stuart,  and  a  squa 
dron  requested  for  our  recovery,  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  the 
General  responded  with  a  laugh,  "  Oh !  they  are  too  intelligent 
to  be  caught!"  and  when  the  incident  of  the  abandonment  of 
the  cherry-pie  was  related  to  Stuart,  he  enjoyed  it  in  a  remark 
able  degree  I 


244  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

Do  you  remember  still,  my  dear  companions,  that  good  cherry- 
pie  breakfast,  the  chase  which  followed,  and  the  laughter  of 
Stuart?  That  was  a  jovial  trip  we  made  across  the  border  in 
the  good  year  1863  ;  and  the  days  and  nights  were  full  of  inci 
dent  and  adventure.  Do  you  find  the  present  year,  1866,  as 
"gay  and  happy"  as  its  predecessor  ?  I  do  not. 


III. 


Our  mishap  above  related  was  truly  unfortunate.    It  gave  the 
advance-guard  the  start,  and  when  we  reached  Fairfax  Court- 
House,  they  had  rifled  the  public  store-houses  and  sutlers'  shops, 
of  their  entire  contents. 

It  was  impossible  to  forbear  from  laughing  at  the  spectacle 
which  the  cavalry  column  presented.  Every  man  had  on  a 
white  straw  hat,  and  a  pair  of  snowy  cotton  gloves.  Every 
trooper  carried  before  him  upon  the  pommel  of  his  saddle  a  bale 
of  smoking  tobacco,  or  a  drum  of  figs ;  every  hand  grasped  a  pile 
of  ginger-cakes,  which  were  rapidly  disappearing.  But  hospi 
tality  to  the  rear-guard  was  the  order  of  the  day.  We  did  not 
suffer.  The  mishaps  of  my  comrades  and  myself  had  in  some 
manner  become  known,  and  we  were  greeted  with  shouts  of 
laughter,  but  with  soldierly  generosity  too.  Every  hand  prof 
fered  a  straw  hat  of  the  most  elegant  pattern,  or  a  pair  of  gloves 
as  white  as  the  driven  'snow.  Every  comrade  held  out  his  figs, 
pressed  on  his  cakes,  or  begged  us  to  try  his  smoking  tobacco — 
which  I  am  compelled  to  say  was  truly  detestable. 

Such  was  the  gay  scene  at  Fairfax  Court-House  when  Stuart 
entered  the  place. 

The  cavalry  did  not  stop  long.  Soon  the  column  was  again 
moving  steadily  towards  the  Potomac,  intelligence  having  ar 
rived  that  General  Hooker's  main  body  had  passed  that  river 
at  Leesburg.  What  would  Stuart  do — what  route  would  he 
now  follow  ?  There  were  few  persons,  if  any,  in  the  entire  com 
mand,  who  could  reply  to  that  question.  Cross  at  Leesburg  ? 
To  merely  follow  up  Hooker  while  Hooker  followed  up  Lee, 


TO   GETTYSBURG  AND   BACK  AGAIN.  245 

was  very  unlike  Stuart.  Strike  across  for  the  Blue  Ridge,  and 
cross  at  Shepherdstown  ?  That  would  lose  an  immense  amount 
of  invaluable  time  and  horse-flesh.  Cross  below  Leesburg  ?  That 
seemed  impossible  with  the  artillery,  and  difficult  even  for 
cavalry.  The  river  was  broad,  deep,  with  a  rocky  and  uneven 
bed  J  and  so  confident  were  the  enemy  of  the  impossibility  of  our 
crossing  there,  that  not  a  picket  watched  the  stream. 

Stuart's  design  was  soon  developed.  We  reached  at  nightfall 
an  elevation  not  far  from  the  Great  Falls — the  spot  laid  down 
on  the  maps  as  Matildaville,  or  near  it — Stuart  riding  with  staff 
and  advance  guard  far  in  front.  The  latter  pushed  on — the  rest 
stopping — when  all  at  once  shots  came  from  the  front,  and  Stuart 
called  out  cheerily  to  the  staff:  "Look  out!  Here  they  come! 
Give  it  to  them  with  pistols  I "  The  bang  of  carbines  followed  : 
a  squadron  hastened  to  the  front,  and  opened  fire ;  and  in  the 
midst  of  it  Stuart  said,  "  Tell  Hampton — you  can  follow  his  trail 
—that  Chambliss  is  up,  and  Fitz  Lee  coming."  The  "  trail"  was 
plain  in  the  moonlight;  I  followed  it;  and  reaching  the  Poto 
mac  just  above  the  Falls,  found  Hampton  crossing. 

The  spectacle  was  picturesque.  The  broad  river  glittered  in 
the  moon,  and  on  the  bright  surface  was  seen  the  long,  wavering 
line  of  dark  figures,  moving  "  in  single  file ;  "  the  water  washing 
to  and  fro  across  the  backs  of  the  horses,  which  kept  their  feet 
with  difficulty.  The  hardest  portion  of  the  task  was  crossing 
the  cannon  of  the  horse-artillery.  It  seemed  impossible  to  get 
the  limbers  and  caissons  over  without  wetting,  and  so  destroying 
the  ammunition;  but  the  ready  brain  of  Stuart  found  an  expe 
dient.  The  boxes  were  quickly  unpacked ;  every  cavalry-man 
took  charge  of  a  shell,  case,  or  solid  shot  with  the  fixed  cartridge; 
and  thus  held  well  aloft,  the  precious  freight  was  carried  over 
dry.  Once  on  the  other  side,  the  shell-bearers  deposited  the 
ammunition  on  the  beach ;  it  was  repacked  in  the  caissons,  which 
had  been  dragged  by  the  plunging  horses  over  the  rocky  bed  in 
safety  ;  the  guns  followed  ;  the  artillery  was  over ! 

At  Hanovertown,  in  Pennsylvania,  two  or  three  days  after 
wards,  the  cavalry  did  not  by  any  means  regret  the  trouble  they 
had  been  put  to  in  carrying  over  that  ammunition  udry  shod." 


246  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

Breathed  thundered  with  it  from  the  heights,  and  with  shell 
after  shell  broke  the  heavy  line  advancing  to  the  assault. 
Never  was  thunder  sweeter  and  more  musical !  But  I  antici 
pate. 

The  river  was  crossed ;  also  the  Chesapeake  and  Ohio  canal, 
by  a  narrow  bridge ;  and  the  cavalry  baited  for  brief  rest, — the 
General  and  staff  receiving  open-handed  hospitality  from  Mr. 
-  and  his  family ;  those  guardian  angels  of  the  soldier,  the 
ladies,  staying  up  all  night  to  wait  upon  the  weary  gray-backs, 
and  give  them  food. 

The  column  moved  at  dawn  toward  the  "  undiscovered  land  " 
of  Star-and-Stripe-dom,  in  a  northern  direction,  toward  Rock- 
ville.  It  was  not  long  before  we  came  on  the  blue  people. 
"  Bang !  bang !  bang !  "  indicated  that  the  advance  guard  was 
charging  a  picket ;  the  shots  ended ;  we  pushed  on,  passing  some 
dead  or  wounded  forms,  bleeding  by  the  grassy  roadside ;  and 
the  town  of  Kockville  came  in  sight.  The  present  writer  pushed 
on  after  the  advance  guard,  which  had  galloped  through,  and 
riding  solus  along  a  handsome  street,  came  suddenly  upon  a 
spectacle  which  was  truly  pleasing.  This  was  a  seminary  for 
young  ladies,  with  open  windows,  open  doors — and  doors  and 
windows  were  full  and  running  over  with  the  fairest  specimens 
of  the  gentler  sex  that  eye  ever  beheld.  It  was  Sunday,  and 
the  beautiful  girls  in  their  fresh  gaily  coloured  dresses,  low  necks, 
bare  arms,  and  wildernesses  of  braids  and  curls,  were  "off  duty" 
for  the  moment,  and  burning  with  enthusiasm  to  welcome  the 
Southerner ;  for  Kockville,  in  radical  parlance,  was  a  "  vile  secesh 
hole."  Every  eye  flashed,  every  voice  exclaimed ;  every  rosy  lip 
laughed ;  every  fair  hand  waved  a  handkerchief  or  a  sheet  of 
music  (smuggled)  with  crossed  Confederate  flags  upon  the  cover. 
The  whole  faQade  of  the  building  was  a  tulip-bed  of  brilliant 
colours,  more  brilliant  eyes,  and  joy  and  welcome ! 

Pardon,  friend,  if  you  are  of  the  "other  faction,''  this  little 
burst  of  enthusiasm,  as  I  remember  Rockville  on  that  gay  June 
morning.  Pleasant  it  is  in  the  dull  hours  of  to-day  to  recall 
that  scene ;  and  the  bright  eyes  flash  once  more,  the  laughter 
again  sounds ! 


TO   GETTYSBUEa  AND  BACK    4GAIN.  247 

As  the  present  historian  drew  near,  riding  as  aforesaid,  ahead 
of  his  commander,  a  beautiful  girl  of  about  sixteen  rushed  forth 
from  the  portico,  pirouetting  and  clapping  her  hands  in  an 
ecstasy  at  the  sight  of  the  gray  uniform,  exclaiming,  "  Oh  !  here 
is  one  of  General  Stuart's  Aides !  "  and  finished  by  pulling  some 
hair  from  the  mane  of  my  calm  and  philosophic  old  war-horse, 
on  the  expressly  stated  ground  that  he  was  "  a  Secession  horse !  " 
Then  General  Stuart  approached  with  his  column — gay,  laugh 
ing,  his  blue  eyes  under  the  black  feather  full  of  the  joy  of  the 
soldier ;  and  a  wild  welcome  greeted  him.  The  scene  was  one 
which  beggars  description,  and  it  remains  in  my  memory  to-day 
as  clearly  as  though  cut  deep  in  "monumental  alabaster.'"1 
Sweet  faces,  with  the  beautiful  welcoming  eyes,  and  smiling 
lips !  an  ex-rebel — he  who  writes  this  page — takes  off  his  hat 
and  bows  low  to  you,  saluting  you  as  the  pearls  of  lovelines? 
and  goodness  ! 

IY. 

Stuart  did  not  tarry.  In  war  there  is  little  time  for  gallant 
words,  and  news  had  just  reached  us  from  the  front  which 
moved  the  column  on  like  the  sound  of  the  bugle. 

This  news  was,  that  while  we  approached  Eockville  from  the 
south,  a  mighty  train  of  nearly  two  hundred  wagons — new, 
fresh-painted,  drawn  each  by  six  sleek  mules,  as  became  the 
"  Eeserve  Forage  Train  "  of  the  Department  at  Washington- 
had  in  like  manner  approached  from  the  east,  intent  on  collect 
ing  forage.  The  rumour  of  the  dread  vicinity  of  the  gray  backs 
had  come  to  them,  however,  blown  on  the  wind ;  the  column  of 
wagons  had  instantly  "  counter-marched  "  in  the  opposite  direc 
tion;  they  were  now  thundering  at  full  gallop  back  toward 
"Washington,  pursued  by  the  advance  guard. 

Stuart's  face  flushed  at  the  thought  of  capturing  this  splendid 
prize  ;  and  shouting  to  a  squadron  to  follow  him,  and  the  main 
column  to  push  on,  he  went  at  a  swift  gallop  on  the  track  of  the 
fleeing  wagons. 

Soon  we  came  up  with  them,  and  then  commenced  an  inde- 


248  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

scribably  grotesque  scene.  The  immense  train  was  seen  covering 
the  road  for  miles.  Every  team  in  full  gallop,  every  wagon 
whirling  onward,  rebounding  from  rocks,  and  darting  into  the 
air, — one  crashing  against  another  "  with  the  noise  of  thunder  " — 
here  one  overturned,  and  lying  with  wheels  upward,  the  mules 
struggling  and  kicking  in  the  harness  ;  then  one  toppling  over  a 
steep  bank,  and  falling  with  a  loud  crash  :  others  burning,  others 
still  dashing  for  shelter  to  the  woods, — the  drivers  cursing,  yell 
ing,  lashing,  blaspheming,  howling  amid  the  bang  of  carbines, 
the  clatter  of  hoofs,  and  cries  of  "  Halt !  halt !  halt !  " 

Stuart  burst  into  laughter,  and  turning  round,  exclaimed : 
"Did  you  ever  see  anything  like  that  in  all  your  life !  "  And  I 
certainly  never  had.  The  grotesque  ruled ;  the  mules  seeme(} 
wilder  than  the  drivers.  They  had  been  cut  by  the  score  from 
the  overturned  wagons,  and  now  ran  in  every  direction,  kicking 
up  at  every  step,  sending  their  shrill  cries  upon  the  air,  and  pre 
senting  a  spectacle  so  ludicrous  that  a  huge  burst  of  "  Olympian 
laughter  "  echoed  from  end  to  end  of  the  turnpike. 

Soon  they  were  all  stopped,  captured,  and  driven  to  the  rear 
by  the  aforesaid  cursing  drivers,  now  sullen,  or  laughing  like  the 
captors.  All  but  those  overturned.  These  were  set  on  fire,  and 
soon  there  rose  for  miles  along  the  road  the  red  glare  of  flames, 
and  the  dense  smoke  of  the  burning  vehicles.  They  had  been 
pursued  within  'sight  of  Washington,  and  I  saw,  I  believe,  the 
dome  of  the  capitol.  That  spectacle  was  exciting — and  General 
Stuart  thought  of  pushing  on  to  make  a  demonstration  against 
the  defences.  This,  however,  was  given  up ;  and  between  the 
flames  of  the  burning  wagons  we  pushed  back  to  Rockville, 
through  which  the  long  line  of  captured  vehicles,  with  their 
sleek,  resetted  mules,  six  to  each,  had  already  defiled,  amid  the 
shouts  of  the  inhabitants.  Those  thus  "  saved  "  were  about  one 
hundred  in  number. 

The  column  moved,  and  about  ten  that  night  reached  Brook- 
ville,  where  the  atmosphere  seemed  Southern,  like  that  of  Kock- 
ville,  for  a  bevy  of  beautiful  girls  thronged  forth  with  baskets  of 
cakes,  and  bread  and  meat,  and  huge  pitchers  of  ice-water — pene 
trating  fearlessly  the  press  of  trampling  hoofs  and  ministering 


TO   GETTYSBUKG  AND  BACK  AGAIN.  249 

to  the  necessities  of  the  rebels  with  undisguised  satisfaction. 
If  the  fair  girl  living  in  the  handsome  mansion  below  Mr. 
Hamilton's,  remembers  still  to  whom  she  insisted  upon  presenting 
nine  cups  of  coffee  with  every  delicacy,  the  rebel  in  question 
begs  to  assure  her  of  his  continued  gratitude  for  her  kindness. 
At  Brookville  some  hundreds  of  prisoners — the  greater  part  cap 
tured  by  General  Wickham  in  a  boat  at  the  Potomac — were 
paroled  and  started  for  Washington,  as  an  act  of  humanity. 

At  one  o'clock  in  the  morning  Stuart  mounted  and  moved  on, 
speedily  falling  asleep  in  the  saddle,  and  tottering  from  side  to 
side.  In  this  he  was  not  alone  ;  and  I  remember  the  laughable 

spectacle  of  Major  M ,  sitting  grave,  erect,  and  motionless  upon 

his  horse  in  front  of  a  country  store  by  the  roadside,  to  which 
the  animal  had  made  his  way  and  halted.  The  Major  seemed  to 
be  waiting — for  somebody,  or  something — meanwhile  he  was  snor 
ing.  Moving  steadily  on,  the  column  approached  Westminster, 
and  here  Fitz  Lee,  who  was  in  advance,  found  the  enemy  drawn 
up  in  the  street  awaiting  him.  A  charge  quickly  followed, 
carbines  banged,  and  the  enemy  gave  way — but  we  left  behind, 
lying  dead  by  the  roadside,  Lieutenants  Murray  and  Gibson,  two 
of  our  best  officers,  shot  dead  in  the  skirmish.  The  enemy  were 
pursued  at  full  gallop  through  the  town,  to  their  camp  on  the 
heights  to  the  west ;  the  camp  was  taken  with  all  its  con 
tents — arid  the  bugles  of  Fitz  Lee,  sounding  on  the  wind  from  the 
breezy  upland,  told  that  he  had  driven  the  Federal  cavalry  before 
him.  Westminster  was  ours. 

Stuart  took  possession,  but  was  not  greeted  with  much  cor 
diality.  Friends,  and  warm  ones,  met  us,  but  they  had  a  "  hack 
ed"  demeanour,  and  many  of  them  spoke  under  their  breath. 
Westminster  was  evidently  "  Union,"  but  some  families  warmly 
welcomed  us — others  scowled.  The  net  results  of  the  capture 
of  the  place  were — one  old  dismounted  gun  of  the  "Quaker" 
order  on  a  hill  near  the  cavalry  camp  aforesaid,  and  a  United 
States  flag  taken  from  the  vault  of  the  Court- House,  with  the 
names  of  the  ladies  who  had  made  it  worked  across  each  star. 
What  became  of  this  I  do  not  know.  We  left  the  town  that 
night,  bivouacked  in  the  rain  by  the  roadside,  pushed  on  at 


250  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

dawn,  and  were  soon  in  Pennsylvania,  where  details  were  imme 
diately  sent  out  to  seize  horses.  These,  as  I  saw  them  pass  in 
great  numbers,  were  large,  fat,  sleek,  and  apparently  excellent. 
I  was  not  long,  however,  in  discovering  that  they  were  worthless 
as  riding-horses  ;  one  of  the  thin,  wiry,  rawboned  Virginia  horses, 
half  the  weight  of  these  Conestogas,  would  wear  out  a  dozen. 
One  had  "  blood,"  the  other  had  not — and  blood  will  tell. 

We  were  enemies  here,  but  woman,  the  angelic,  still  succoured 
us ;  woman,  without  shoes  or  stockings  often,  and  speaking- 
Dutch,  but  no  less  hospitable.  One  of  them  presented  me  with 
coffee,  bread  spread  with  "  apple-butter  " — and  smiles.  I  don't 
think  the  Mynheers  found  the  gray  people  very  fierce  and 
bloody.  The  horses  were  appropriated;  but  beyond  that  no 
thing — the  very  necks  of  the  chickens  went  un  wrung. 

The  column  was  in  high  glee  thus  far,  and  the  men  were 
rapidly  receiving  "remounts."  No  enemy  approached — your 
old  soldier  never  very  bitterly  laments  that  circumstance ;  but 
all  at  once  as  we  approached  Hanovertown,  we  stirred  up  the 
hornets.  Chambliss — that  brave  soul  who  afterwards  fell  heroi 
cally  fighting  in  Charles  City — at  the  head  of  the  Ninth  Virginia 
drove  in  their  pickets ;  and  he  had  just  swept  on  down  the 
heights  toward  the  town,  whose  steeples  shone  before  us 
nestling  beneath  the  mountain,  when  Stuart  in  person  rode  up 
rapidly. 

"  Well,  General,"  I  said,  "  Chambliss  has  driven  them,  and  is 
going  right  on." 

"  Good  ! "  was  Stuart's  reply.  "  Tell  him  to  push  on  and 
occupy  the  town,  but  not  to  pursue  them  too  far." 

These  words  were  impressed  upon  my  memory  by  the  sequel, 
which  laughably  but  very  disagreeably  reversed  the  General's 
expectations.  Hastening  down  the  declivity  with  the  order  for 
Chambliss,  I  found  him  advancing  rapidly  in  column  of  fours  to 
charge  the  enemy,  who  were  drawn  up  in  the  outskirts  of  the 
town.  Before  he  could  issue  the  order  it  was  rendered  some 
what  nugatory  by  the  blue  people  in  front.  We  had  supposed 
their  force  to  be  small,  but  it  was  now  seen  to  be  heavy.  They 
swarmed  everywhere,  right,  left,  and  front ;  rapidly  formed  lino 


TO   GETTYSBURG  AND   BACK  AGAIN.  -         251 

of  battle,  and  delivering  a  sharp  volley  at  short  range  in 
the  faces  of  the  Confederates,  made  a  gallant  and  headlong 
charge. 

The  result  made  it  unnecessary  to  warn  the  men  not  to  "  pur 
sue  too  far."  They  met  the  charge  sabre  to  sabre  ;  a  hot  conflict 
ensued,  but  the  enemy  pressing  on  with  unbroken  front  in  heavy 
force,  the  Ninth  fell  back  in  good  order  to  the  higher  ground  in 
their  rear,  keeping  off  the  assailants  at  the  edge  of  the  sabre. 
The  road  over  which  they  made  this  "  retrograde  "  was  narrow, 
and  the  melee  of  trampling  hoofs,  shouts,  and  sabre-cuts,  was  more 
exciting  than  amusing.  Men  fell  all  around  before  the  fire  of 
the  excellent  Spencer  rifles  of  the  enemy ;  and  while  gallantly 
rallying  the  men,  Captain  John  Lee  was  shot  through  the  arm. 
To  add  to  the  disagreeable  character  of  the  situation,  I  now 
observed  General  Stuart  in  person,  and  unattended,  coming 
across  the  field  to  the  right  at  full  gallop,  pursued  by  a  detach 
ment  of  cavalry  who  fired  on  him  as  they  came,  and  as  I  reached 
his  side  his  face,  was  stormy,  his  voice  irate. 

"  Have  the  artillery  put  in  position  yonder  on  the  road ;  tell 
it  to  open  !  "  was  his  brief  order. 

And  in  a  few  minutes  it  was  hurried  forward,  and  opened 
fire.  Keturning  to  the  field  in  which  I  had  left  the  General,  I 
found  him  the  second  time  "  falling  back  "  before  a  hotter  pur 
suit  than  the  "first.  The  Federal  cavalry-men,  about  a  company, 
were  nigh  upon  him  as  he  galloped  across  the  field ;  shots 
whistled ;  orders  to  halt  resounded ;  but  it  may  be  understood 
that  it  was  inconvenient  to  comply.  We  went  on  headlong, 
leaped  a  tremendous  ravine  with  the  enemy  almost  in  contact, 
and  following  a  friendly  lane  where  the  rails  were  down,  reached 
the  slope  where  the  artillery  had  just  opened  its  thunders. 

This  checked  the  enemy's  further  advance,  and  Hampton  hav 
ing  opened  on  the  right,  things  settled  down  somewhat.  We 
had  evidently  waked  up  a  real  hornets'  nest,  however.  Long 
columns  of  blue  cavalry  were  seen  defiling  down  the  mountain, 
and  advancing  to  the  front,  and  a  heavy  force  was  observed 
closing  in  on  the  left.  All  at  once  the  edge  of  the  town  swarmed 
with  blue  figures ;  a  heavy  line  was  seen  advancing,  and  soon 


252  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

this  line  pushed  on  with  cheers,  to  charge  the  artillery  on  the 
heights. 

Breathed  replied  by  opening  upon  them  with  shell  and  canis 
ter.  The  first  shell  burst  in  the  line ;  the  second  near  the  first ; 
and  the.  third  made  it  waver.  A  more  rapid  fire  succeeded ; 
everything  depended  upon  these  few  moments,  and  then  the  line 
was  seen  slowly  retiring.  At  the  same  instant  intelligence  came 
that  the  force  on  the  left  was  Fitz  Lee,  who  had  come  in  on 
that  flank  ;  and  the  continuous  thunder  of  Hampton  on  the 
right  showed  plainly  that  in  that  direction  all  was  well.  This 
advance  of  the  Federal  sharpshooters  was  one  of  the  finest  sights 
I  ever  beheld ;  and  at  one  moment  I  thought  Breathed's  guns 
would  never  leave  that  field  of  tall  rye  where  they  were  vomif- 
ing  fire  and  smoke — under  the  command  of  this  gallant  Major 
at  least.  Whether  this  historian  also  would  succeed  in  retiring 
without  capture  seemed  equally  doubtful,  as  he  had  mounted  a 
huge  Conestoga — fat,  sleek,  elephantine,  and  unwieldy — a  phi 
losophic  animal  who  stood  unmoved  by  the  canrfon,  never  blink 
ing  at  the  discharges,  and  appeared  superior  to  all  the  excite 
ments  of  the  moment.  Breathed's  fire,  however,  repulsed  the 
charge  ;  and  as  night  drew  on,  Stuart  set  his  column  in  motion — 
the  wagons  in  the  centre — toward  Jefferson.  One  ludicrous 
scene  at  that  moment  I  perfectly  remember.  A  fat  Dutchman 
who  had  been  lounging  about,  and  reconnoitring  the  strength, 
etc.,  of  the  Confederate  force,  was  regarded  as  too  well  informed 
to  be  left  behind  with  the  enemy  ;  and  this  worthy  was  accord 
ingly  requested  to  "  come  along"  on  the  back  of  a  huge  Cones- 
toga.  This  request  he  treated  with  calm  disregard,  when  a 
cavalry-man  made  a  tremendous  blow  at  him,  which  caused  him 
to  mount  in  hot  haste,  with  only  a  halter  to  guide  his  elephant. 
He  had  no  sooner  done  so  than  the  Conestoga  ran  off,  descended 
the  slope  at  full  speed,  bounded  elephant-wise  over  an  enormous 
ditch — and  it  was  only  by  clinging  close  with  knees  and  hands 
that  the  Dutchman  kept  his  seat.  Altogether,  the  spectacle  was 
one  to  tickle  the  ribs  of  death.  The  last  I  saw  of  the  captive, 
he  was  in  the  very  centre  of  the  cavalry  column,  which  was 
moving  at  a  trot,  and  he  was  swept  on  with  it;  passing  away 


TO   GETTYSBURG  AND   BACK  AGAIN.  253 

for  ever  from  the  eyes  of  this  historian,  who  knows  not  what 
became  of  him  thereafter. 

The  sun  began  to  decline  now,  and  we  rode,  rode, "rode — the 
long  train  of  wagons  strung  out  to  infinity,  it  seemed.  At  dark 
the  little  village  of  Jefferson  was  reached — of  which  metropolis 
I  recall  but  one  souvenir.  This  was  a  pretty  Dutch  girl,  who 
seemed  not  at  all  hostile  to  the  gray  people,  and  who  willingly 
prepared  me  an  excellent  supper  of  hot  bread,  milk,  Coffee,  and 
eggs  fried  temptingly  with  bacon.  She  could  not  speak  English 
— she  could  only  look  amiable,  smile,  and  murmur  unintelligible 
words  in  an  unknown  language.  I  am  sorry  to  say,  tha|I  do  not 
recall  the  supper  with  a  satisfaction  as  unalloyed.  I  was  sent 
by  the  General  to  pass  somebody  through  his  pickets,  and  on  my 
return  discovered  that  I  was  the  victim  of  a  cruel  misfortune. 
The  young  hostess  had  placed  my  supper  on  a  table  in  a  small 
apartment,  in  which  a  side  door  opened  on  the  street ;  through 
this  some  felonious  personage  had  entered — hot  bread,  milk, 
coffee,  eggs,  and  ham,  had  vanished  down  some  hungry  cavalry 
man's  throat. 

Mounting  despondingly,  I  followed  the  column,  which  had 
again  begun  to  move,  and  soon  reached  the  village  of  New 
Salem. 


Y. 

It  was  nearly  midnight  when  we  arrived  at  this  small  village ; 
and,  to  continue  my  own  personal  recollections,  the  village 
tavern  appeared  to  present  a  favourable  opportunity  to  redeem 
my  misfortune  at  Jefferson. 

It  was  proposed,  accordingly,  to  the  General  that  he  should 
stop  there  and  procure  some  coffee,  of  which  he  was  very  fond— 
and  as  he  acceded  to  this  cheerfully,  I  applied  to  the  burly  land 
lord,  who  responded  encouragingly.  In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  the 
coffee  was  ready  ;  also  some  excellent  ale ;  also  some  bread  and 
the  inseparable  "  apple  butter,'7  or  "  spreading,"  as  the  Pennsyl- 
vanians  call  this  edible.  When  General  Stuart  had  emptied  his 


254  WEARING    OF  THE    GRAY. 

coffee-cup — which  always  put  the  stout  cavalier  in  a  gay  humour 
— he  laughed,  mounted  his  horse,  and  said  to  me  : 

"  By  the  by,  suppose  you  stay  here  until  Hampton  comes 
along ;  I  am  going  on  with  Fitz  Lee.  Tell  Hampton  to  move 
on  steadily  on  the  road  to  Dover,  and  show  him  the  way." 

With  these  words,  the  Creneral  rode  away  on  the  track  of 
General  Fitz  Lee,  and  the  present  writer  was  left  solus,  to  "hold 
the  position  alone"  at  Salem.  This  position,  it  speedily  ap 
peared,  was  not  wholly  desirable.  The  advance  division  under 
Lee  had  pushed  on  several  miles  ahead — there  was  not  a  single 
cavalryman  beside  myself  in  Salem — and  Hampton  was  several 
miles  behind.  To  add  to  the  charms  of  the  "situation,"  there 
were  a  number  of  extremely  cut-throat  looking  individuals  of  the 
"  other  faction"  lounging  about  the  porch,  eyeing  the  lonely 
Confederate  askance,  and  calculating  apparently  the  chance  of 
"suppressing"  him  without  danger— and  the  individual  in  this 
disagreeable  situation  was  nearly  dead  for  want  of  sleep. 

There  appeared,  however,  to  be  very  little  real  hostility — such 
as  I  imagine  would  have  been  exhibited  by  the  inhabitants  of  a 
Southern  village  had  an  officer  of  the  U.  S.  army  been  left 
behind  under  similar  circumstances.  Doubtless  the  hangers-on 
were  impressed  with  the  conviction  that  in  case  the  wandering 
staff-officer  did  not  rejoin  his  command,  General  Stuart  would 
return  to  look  for  him,  torch  in  hand,  when  the  village  of  New 
Salem  would  make  its  exit  in  a  bonfire.  The  portly  landlord, 
especially,  appeared  to  be  a  real  philosopher ;  and  when  asked 
the  meaning  of  a  distant  noise,  replied  with  a  laugh,  "  Some  of 
your  people  tearing  up  the  railroad,  I  guess ! " 

In  spite  of  the  worthy's  strong  coffee  and  the  unpleasing  ex 
pression  of  eye  in  the  crowd  around,  I  was  just  dropping  asleep 
in  my  chair  on  the  porch,  when  the  clatter  of  hoofs  resounded, 
and  the  voice  of  General  Hampton  was  heard  in  the  darkness, 
asking  if  there  was  any  one  there  to  direct  him.  This  sound 
aroused  me,  and  in  a  few  moments  I  was  riding  with  the  brave 
cavalier  at  the  head  of  his  column  toward  Dover.  Toward  dawn 
General  Hampton  halted,  and  I  asked  if  he  was  going  to  stop. 

"Yes,  for  a  little  while — I  am  perishing  for  sleep." 


TO  GETTYSBURG  AND  BACK  AGAIN.  255 

And  with  these  words  the  General  proceeded  to  a  haystack 
near  the  road,  pulled  down  some  of  the  hay,  wrapped  himself  in 
his  cape,  and  in  a  few  minutes  was  fast  asleep — his  companion 
exactly  imitating  him. 

At  daylight  we  reached  the  straggling  little  village  of  Dover, 
where  more  prisoners  were  paroled ;  thence  proceeded  through 
a  fine  country  towards  Carlisle ;  at  Dillstown  procured  dinner 
from  the  landlord  of  the  principal  tavern,  a  philosophic  Mr.  Mil 
ler,  whose  walls  were  covered  with  pictures  of  black  trotters  in 
skeleton  conveyances,  making  rapid  time ;  and  at  night  reached 
Carlisle,  which  General  Stuart  immediately  summoned  to  sur 
render  by  flag  of  truce. 

The  reply  to  this  was  a  flat  refusal  from  General  Smith  ;  and 
soon  a  Whitworth  gun  in  the  town  opened,  and  the  Southern 
guns  replied.  This  continued  for  an  hour  or  two,  when  the  U.  S. 
barracks  were  fired,  and  the  light  fell  magnificently  upon  the 
spires  of  the  city,  presenting  an  exquisite  spectacle. 

Meanwhile,  the  men  were  falling  asleep  around  the  guns,  and 
the  present  writer  slept  very  soundly  within  ten  feet  of  a  battery 
hotly  firing.  Major  R—  -  leaned  against  a  fence  within  a  few 
paces  of  a  howitzer  in  process  of  rapid  discharge,  and  in  that  up 
right  position  "  forgot  his  troubles."  The  best  example,  however, 
was  one  which  General  Stuart  mentioned.  He  saw  a  man  climb 
a  fence,  put  one  leg  over,  and  in  that  position  drop  asleep ! 

Any  further  assault  upon  Carlisle  was  stopped  by  a  very  sim 
ple  circumstance.  General  Lee  sent  for  the  cavalry.  He  had 
recalled  Early  from  York ;  moved  with  his  main  column  east  of 
the  South  Mountain,  toward  the  village  of  Gettysburg;  and 
Stuart  was  wanted.  In  fact,  during  the  afternoon  of  our  ad 
vance  to  Carlisle— the  first  of  July— the  artillery  fire  of  the  "  first 
day's  fight"  was  heard,  and  referring  to  Lloyd's  map,  I  supposed 
it  to  be  at  Gettysburg,  a  place  of  which  I  had  no  knowledge. 
How  unexpected  was  the  concentration  of  the  great  opposing 
forces  there,  will  appear  from  General  Stuart's  reply,  "  1  reckon 
not,"  when  the  firing  was  spoken  of  as  "near  Gettysburg."  ISTo 
one  then  anticipated  a  battle  there— Generals  Lee  and  Meade 
almost  as  little  as  the  rest. 


256  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

In  spite  of  the  broken-down  condition  of  his  command,  Stuart 
moved  at  once — and  whole  columns  went  to  sleep  in  the  saddle. 
Pennsylvania  had  so  far  proved  to  us  a  veritable  "  Land  of 
Drowsy -head ! " 

This  night  march  was  the  most  severe  I  ever  experienced.  The 
long  succession  of  sleepless  nights  had  prostrated  the  strongest, 
and  General  Stuart  and  his  staff  moving  without  escort  on  the 
Willstown  road,  passed  over  mile  after  mile  asleep  in  the  saddle. 
At  dawn,  the  General  dismounted  in  a  clump  of  trees  by  the 
roadside ;  said,  "  I  am  going  to  sleep  two  hours  ;  "  and  wrapping 
himself  in  his  cape  simply  leaned  against  a  tree  and  was  immedi 
ately  asleep.  Everybody  imitated  him,  and  I  was  awakened  by 
the  voice  of  one  of  the  couriers,  who  informed  me  that  "  the 
General  was  gone."  Such  was  the  fact — Stuart  had  risen  punc 
tually  at  the  end  of  the  two  hours,  stretched  himself,  mounted, 
and  ridden  on  solus,  a  wandering  Major-General  in  the  heart  of 
Pennsylvania !  In  the  afternoon  the  cavalry  were  at  Gettysburg. 


VI. 

General  Stuart  arrived  with  his  cavalry  on  the  evening  of  the 
"second  day's  fight"  at  Gettysburg,  and  took  position  on  the 
left  of  Ewell,  whose  command  composed  the  left  wing  of  the 
army. 

All  Stuart's  energies  were  now  bent  to  acquire  an  accurate 
idea  of  the  ground,  and  hold  the  left  against  the  enemy's  horse, 
who  were  active  and  enterprising.  In  reconnoitring  their  posi 
tion  on  the  railroad,  he  was  suddenly  fired  upon  at  close  quar 
ters — the  bullets  passing  in  dangerous  proximity — and  having 
thus  satisfied  himself  of  the  enemy's  whereabouts,  the  General 
returned  to  his  impromptu  headquarters,  namely  a  tree  on  the 
side  of  the  Heidelburg  road,  about  a  mile  from  the  town.  Mean 
while  we  ha^  learned  the  particulars  of  the  two  hard  fights — A. 
P.  Hill's  on  the  evening  of  the  first  of  July ;  and  Longstreef  s 
on  the  second,  when  he  made  that  desperate  flank  attack  on  the 


TO   GETTYSBURG  AND   BACK  AGAIN.  257 

enemy's  left  at  Kound  Top.  It  is  easy  to  see,  now,  that  this  as 
sault  was  the  turning  point  of  the  tremendous  struggle.  For 
thirty  minutes  the  issue  hung  suspended  in  the  balances,  and 
there  is  some  truth  in  the  rhetorical  flourish  of  a  Northern  verse- 
writer,  to  the  effect  that  "the  century  reeled,"  when  Longstreet 
paused  on  the  brow  of  the  hill.  Had  he  gained  possession  of  the 
Kound  Top,  General  Meade's  line  would  have  been  taken  in 
flank  and  reverse ;  he  would  doubtless  have  been  forced  to  fall 
back  to  another  position ;  this  would  have  been  undertaken  under 
the  fire  of  the  Southern  cannon  and  muskets ;  and  once  in  mo 
tion  it  is  doubtful  if  the  U.  S.  army  could  have  been  brought  up 
to  a  new  struggle.  If  not,  Baltimore  and  Washington  would 
speedily  have  been  occupied  by  the  Southern  forces — the  result 
of  which  would  probably  have  been  peace. 

But  this  is  a  long  digression  from  the  cavalry  operations.  The 
"  third  day  "  dawned  ;  Stuart  took  post  with  Jiis  cavalry  on  the 
extreme  right  and  rear  of  the  Federal  forces — and  the  thunder 
opened.  We  could  only  hear  the  battle,  not  see  it.  The  Fede 
ral  cavalry  kept  us  quite  busy.  It  was  handled  here  with  skill 
and  gallantry — the  heavy  lines  were  seen  to  form,  the  officers 
galloping  up  and  down ;  three  measured  cheers  were  given  by 
the  men,  apparently  by  formal  military  order,  they  were  so 
regular ;  then  the  bugle  sounded,  and  the  bkie  horsemen  came 
on  shaking  the  ground  with  their  trampling  hoofs.  The  struggle 
was  bitter  and  determined,  but  brief.  For  a  moment  the  air  was 
full  of  flashing  sabres  and  pistol  smoke,  and  a  wild  uproar 
deafened  the  ears ;  then  the  Federal  horse  gave  back,  pursued 
by  their  opponents.  We  lost  many  good  men,  however  ;  among 
the  rest,  General  Hampton  was  shot  in  the  side,  and  nearly  cut 
out  of  the  saddle  by  a  sabre  stroke.  Ten  minutes  before  I  had 
conversed  with  the  noble  South  Carolinian,  and  he  was  full  of 
life,  strength,  and  animation.  Now  he  was  slowly  being  borne  to 
the  rear  in  his  ambulance,  bleeding  from  his  dangerous  wounds. 
General  Stuart  had  a  narrow  escape  in  this  charge,  his  pistol 
hung  in  his  holster,  and  as  he  was  trying  to  draw  it,  he  received 
the  fire  of  barrel  after  barrel  from  a  Federal  cavalryman  within 
ten  paces  of  him,  but  fortunately  sustained  no  injury. 

17 


258  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

Having  failed  in  this  charge  the  enemy  did  not  attempt 
another ;  the  lines  remained  facing  each  other,  and  skirmishing, 
while  the  long  thunder  of  the  artillery  beyond,  indicated  the 
hotter  struggle  of  Cemetery  Hill.  Pickett's  Virginians,  we  after 
wards  knew,  were  making  their  "  wild  charge  "  at  that  moment : 
advancing  into  that  gulf  of  fire  from  which  so  few  were  to  re 
turn  ;  Kemper  was  being  shot  down  ;  Armistead  was  falling  as 
he  leaped  his  horse  over  the  Federal  breastworks — the  fate  of 
Gettysburg  was  being  decided. 

Night  settled  down,  and  still  ignorant  of  the  result,  Stuart 
rode  along  the  whole  front  where  the  sharpshooters  were  still 
firing.  In  the  yard  of  a  house  there  was  a  dead  man  lying,  I 
remember,  in  a  curious  position — as  men  killed  in  battle  often 
do — and  another  blue  sharpshooter,  who  had  been  summoned 
to  advance  and  surrender,  was  staggering  up  with  his  face  all 
bloody.  Such  are  the  trifles  which  cling  to  the  memory. 

Returning  through  the  darkness  towards  the  Heidelburg  road, 
an  amusing  discussion  took  place  upon  a  somewhat  interesting 
point. 

"  General,"  said  one  of  the  staff,  "  we  are  travelling  in  the 
wrong  direction — this  road  will  lead  you  straight  into  the 
enemy's  lines." 

u  No,"  was  Stuart's  reply,  "  look  at  the  stars." 

"  Well,  yonder  is  the  North  Star." 

"You  are  certainly  mistaken." 

"  I  am  sure  I  am  not." 

"  And  I  am  sure  you  are !  However,  we  can  easily  decide." 

And  the  General  drew  from  his  pocket  a  small  portable  com 
pass  which  he  had  carried  with  him  on  the  prairies  of  the  West, 
when  in  the  U.  S.  army.  The  compass  overthrew  the  General, 
and  vindicated  the  good  judgment  of  the  staff  officer.  Laughter 
followed ;  the  direction  of  march  was  changed ;  a  wide  ditch 
leaped  ;  and  we  gained  the  Heidelburg  road — the  staff  pushing 
on  intent  on  sleep,  a  single  courier  being  left  with  the  General. 
The  sequel  was  amusing.  The  General  went  to  sleep  in  the 
saddle  :  the  courier  rode  on :  and  the  General's  horse  not  recog 
nising  headquarters  in  the  dark,  quietly  walked  on  by,  and 


TO  GETTYSBURG  AND  BACK  AGAIN.  259 

nearly  carried  Major-General  Stuart  into  the  cavalry  pickets  of 
the  enemy. 

These  minute  details  will,  I  fear,  prove  less  interesting  to  the 
reader  than  to  him  who  recalls  them.  The  length  of  the  narra 
tive  dictates,  for  the  future,  a  more  rapid  summary.  The  third 
day's  fight  decided  the  event  of  Gettysburg,  and  General  Lee  fell 
back  toward  the  Potomac,  not  very  hotly  pursued.  Nothing 
is  more  erroneous  than  the  idea  that  the  Southern  army  was 
"  demoralized  "  by  the  result  of  the  bloody  actions  of  these  three 
memorable  days.  Their  nerve  was  unshaken,  their  confidence 
in  Lee  and  themselves  unimpaired.  Longstreet  said  truly  that 
he  desired  nothing  better  than  for  General  Meade  to  attack  his 
position — that  his  men  would  have  given  the  Federal  troops  a 
reception  such  as  they  had  given  Pickett.  The  stubborn  resolu 
tion  of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  was  thus  unbroken — but 
the  game  was  played  for  the  time.  The  army  was  moving  back, 
slow  and  defiant,  to  the  Potomac. 

The  cavalry  protected  its  flanks  and  rear,  fighting  in  the 
passes  of  South  Mountain,  and  holding  obstinately  the  ridge  in 
front  of  Boonsboro,  while  General  Lee  formed  his  line  to  cover 
the  crossing  at  Falling  Waters  and  Williamsport.  Here,  near 
Boonsboro,  Stuart  did  some  of  his  hardest  fighting,  and  suc 
cessfully  held  his  ground,  crowning  every  knoll  with  the  guns 
of  his  horse  artillery.  When  the  infantry  was  in  position,  the 
cavalry  retired,  and  took  position  on  the  flanks — the  two  armies 
faced  each  other,  and  a  battle  seemed  imminent — when  one 
morning  General  Meade  discovered  that  General  Lee  was  on  the 
south  bank  of  the  Potomac. 

It  is  said  that  the  Federal  commander  designed  attacking  Lee 
that  day,  against  the  opinion  of  his  officers.  What  would  have 
been  the  result  ?  That  is  a  difficult  question.  A  humble  soldier 
of  the  Southern  army  may,  however,  be  permitted  to  say  that  a 
rout  of  the  army  of  Northern  Virginia,  under  Lee,  never  seemed 
to  him  possible.  Nor  was  it  ever  routed.  It  was  starved,  and  it 
surrendered. 

General  Lee  was  thus  over  with  his  army,  where  provisions 
and  ammunition  were  obtainable;  and  the  opposing  forces 


260  WEARING    OF  THE    GRAY. 

rested.  Then  General  Meade  advanced,  his  great  adversary 
made  a  corresponding  movement,  and  about  the  first  of  August 
the  cavalry  were  once  more  posted  in  Culpeper. 

In  about  six  weeks  they  .had  marched  many  hundreds  of 
miles  ;  fought  a  number  of  battles  ;  lost  about  one-third  of  their 
force  by  death  in  action,  or  disabling  wounds ;  and  were  again 
on  the  war-harried  banks  of  the  Kappahannock. 


YIL 


A  few  words  will  terminate  this  sketch  of  the  summer  cam 
paign  of  1863. 

Of  this  great  ride  with  the  cavalry  through  Pennsylvania,  the 
present  writer  has  preserved  recollections  rather  amusing  and 
grotesque,  than  sad  or  tragic.  The  anxiety  expressed  by  a  fat 
lady  of  Dutch  origin,  to  secure  a  blue  postage  stamp  with  the 
head  of  President  Davis  upon  it,  a  gentleman  whom  she  evident 
ly  expected  to  find  endued  with  horns  and  tail  en  DiaUe  ;  the 
manner  in  which  an  exceedingly  pretty  damsel  in  a  town 
through  which  the  army  was  retreating,  turned  her  back  upon 
the  writer,  as  he  smiled  respectfully  upon  catching  her  eye ; 
turned  her  back,  tossed  her  head,  and  "looked  daggers;1'  the 
air  of  hauteur  and  outraged  feeling  with  which  another  refused 
to  lend  a  coffee-pot,  not  even  melting  at  the  offender's  low  bow, 
and  "  I  will  not  insist,  madam  " — these  return  to  memory  and 
make  the  recollection  of  those  times  more  amusing  than  disa 
greeable.  We  were  sore  then,  but  time  obliterates  pain,  and 
heals  nearly  every  wound.  There  were  harsh  emotions,  painful 
scenes,  and  bitter  hostility  ;  but  there  were  some  of  the  amenities 
of  war  too  ;  among  which  I  recall  the  obliging  manner  in  which 

Major  P ,  of  the  United  States  cavalry,  enabled  me  to  gratify 

some  lady  friends  in  Virginia. 

The  Major  was  brought  in  to  the  headquarters — or  bivouac, 
rather — in  a  grassy  yard  near  Hagerstown,  during  the  absence 
of  General  Stuart,  and  whilst  the  present  writer  was  in  com- 


TO   GETTYSBURG  AND   BACK  AGAIN.  261 

mand.  I  found  him  very  much  of  a  gentleman  ;  laughed  at  his 
description  of  the  manner  in  which  he  was  captured — "  Your 
men  snapped  a  carbine  at  me,  and  then  '  halted '  me !  " — and 
simply  took  his  parole  not  to  attempt  escape,  after  which  we  lay- 
down  and  slept  on  the  grass,  the  major  sharing  my  blankets. 
On  the  next  morning  we  were  perfectly  intimate ;  and  hearing 
me  express  a  wish  to  secure  some  "greenbacks"  for  the  pur 
chase  of  small  articles  in  Hagerstown,  where  Confederate  money 
would  not  pass,  the  major  politely  pulled  out  his  purse,  declaring 
that  he  would  exchange  dollar  for  dollar  "  as  he  only  wished  to 
have  enough  of  money  to  buy  cigars  in  Eichmond."  The 
comedy  of  the  scene  which  ensued  lay  in  the  mutual  anxiety 

of  Major  P and  the  present  writer,  lest  each  should  wrong 

the  other.  Each  was  afraid  he  would  get  the  advantage  of  his 
companion,  and  the  polite  speeches  delivered  on  the  occasion 
were  truly  admirable.  An  equitable  arrangement  was  finally 
made.  I  came  into  possession  of  about  forty  dollars  in  Federal 
money,  and  with  this  bought  out  nearly  the  whole  stock  of  lace, 
ribands,  and  handkerchiefs  of  a  milliner's  store,  to  the  extreme 
but  suppressed  amusement  of  the  young  lady  behind  the  coun 
ter,  who  disinterestedly  gave  her  advice  in  the  selection.  With 
this  big  bundle  on  the  pommel  of  his  saddle,  the  present  writer 
made  his  exit  from  the  State  of  Maryland  ! 

Such,  in  rapid  and  discursive,  outline,  was  the  march  of  the 
cavalry  "  to  Gettysburg  and  back  again,"  in  that  last  year  but 
one  of  the  great  civil  war.  Scores  of  miles  were  passed  over, 
while  the  weary  cavalry-man  who  writes  this,  slept  in  the  sad 
dle.  So,  it  is  no  wonder  Pennsylvania  appears  to  him  to-day 
like  a  land  seen  in  a  dream  !  Gettysburg  was,  however,  a  rough 
waking,  and  over  that  far  locality  where  the  fdte  of  the  struggle 
was  decided,  a  lurid  cloud  seems  to  hang,  its  edges  steeped  in 
blood.  "  Gettysburg !  Gettysburg !  "  That  murmur  comes  to 
the  lips  of  many  whose  dear  ones  sleep  their  last  sleep  under  the 
sod  there ;  but  this  souvenir  is  sad.  Let  me  remember  rather 
the  gay  laugh  of  Stuart ;  the  voices  of  Fitz  Lee,  Hampton,  and 
their  noble  comrades ;  the  fun,  the  frolic,  and  the  adventure  of 


262  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

the  long  joiirnej,  when  so  much  mirth  lit  up  the  dark  horizon 
zon  of  war. 

It  is  a  hard  and  brutal  business,  the  trade  of  war ;  but  the 
odd,  grotesque,  and  bizarre  mix  everywhere  with  the  tears  and 
the  blood.  All  were  mingled  in  this  heavy  work  of  the  bustling 
year  1363. 


VIII 
FROM  THE  RAPIDAN  TO  FRYING  PAN, 

IN  OCTOBER,   1863. 


I. 

GENERAL  MEADE'S  retreat  from  Culpeper,  in  October,  1863,  was 
one  of  the  liveliest  episodes  of  the  late  war.  This  officer  was 
not  unpopular  in  the  Southern  army.  Few  depredations  were 
laid  to  his  charge,  and  he  was  generally  regarded  as  a  fair  and 
honorable  opponent.  There  was  evidently  no  rhodomontade 
about  him,  and  few  trumpets  were  blown  in  his  honour ;  but 
General  Lee  is  said  to  have  declared  that  he  had  given  him  as 
much  trouble  as  any  Federal  general  of  the  war.  t)f  his  status 
as  a  soldier,  let  history  speak.  The  present  sketch  will  show,  I 
think,  that  no  general  ever  better  understood  the  difficult  art  of 
coolly  retiring  without  loss,  and  promptly  advancing  to  his  for 
mer  position  at  the  right  moment.  As  in  other  sketches,  the 
writer  will  aim  rather  to  present  such  details  and  incidents  as 
convey  a  clear  idea  of  the  actual  occurrence,  than  to  indulge  in 
historical  generalization.  Often  the  least  trifling  of  things  are 
"  trifles." 

In  October,  1863,  General  Meade's  army  was  around  Culpeper 
Court-House,  with  the  advance  at  Mitchell's  Station,  on  the 
Orange  road,  and  General  Lee  faced  him  on  the  south  bank  of 
the  Rapidan.  One  day  there  came  from  our  signal-station,  on 
Clarke's  Mountain,  the  message :  "  General  Meade's  head-quarters 
are  at  Wai  lack's,  and  Pleasanton's  at  Cumberland,  Georgia" 


264  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

General  Fitz  Lee  thereupon  sent  to  General  Stuart,  after  the 
jocose  fashion  of  "General  Fitz,"  to  ask  why  Pleasanton  had 
been  sent  to  "  Cumberland,  Georgia"  The  message  should  have 
been  Cumberland  George's — the  house,  that  is  to  say,  of  the  Rev. 
Mr.  George,  in  the  suburbs  of  Culpeper  Court- House. 

Every  day,  at  that  time,  the  whistle  of  the  "  Yankee  cars,"  as 
we  used  to  call  them,  was  heard  a  few  miles  off,  at  Mitchell's 
Station ;  and  as  General  Meade  was  plainly  going  to  advance,  it 
was  obvious  that  he  was  going  to  fall  back.  It  was  at  this  time, 
early  in  October,  that  "  for  reasons  best  known  to  himself,"  Gene 
ral  Lee  determined  upon  a  movement  through  Madison,  along 
the  base  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  to  flank  General  Meade's  right,  cut 
him  off  from  Manassas,  and  bring  on  a  general  engagement  be 
tween  the  two  armies.  The  plan  was  a  simple  one.  Ewell  and 
A.  P.  Hill  were  to  move  out  with  their  corps  from  the  works  on 
the  Rapidan,  and  marching  up  that  stream,  cross  into  Madison, 
leaving  Fitz  Lee's  cavalry  division  to  occupy  their  places  in  the 
abandoned  works,  and  repulse  any  assault.  Once  across  the 
Upper  Rapidan,  Ewell  and  Hill  would  move  toward  Madison 
Court- House  with  the  rest  of  Stuart's  cavalry  on  their  right  flank, 
to  mask  the  movement ;  and,  thence  pushing  on  to  the  Rappa- 
hannock,  make  for  Warrenton,  somewhere  near  which  point  it 
was  probable  that  they  would  strike  General  Meade's  column  on 
its  retreat.  Then  a  decisive  trial  of  strength  in  a  pitched  battle. 

The  cavalry,  by  common  consent  of  the  army,  "  did  the  work" 
on  this  movement — the  infantry  having  few  opportunities  to  be 
come  engaged — and  I  shall  ask  the  reader  to  follow  "Stuart  and 
his  horsemen." 

I  think  it  was  the  morning  of  the  10th  of  October  when,  mov 
ing  on  the  right  of  the  long  column  of  Ewell  and  Hill  then 
streaming  toward  Madison  Court-House,  Stuart  came  on  the  ex 
terior  picket  of  the  enemy — their  advance  force  of  cavalry,  in 
fantry,  and  artillery,  being  near  the  little  village  of  James  City. 
The  picket  on  a  little  stream  was  driven  in,  and  pushing  on  to 
Thoroughfare  Mountain  (not  to  be  confounded  with  that  near 
Manassas),  we  ran  into  a  regiment  of  infantry  which  had  hastily 
formed  line  of  battle  at  the  noise  of  the  firing.  Gordon,  that 


FROM  THE  R  API  DAN  TO   FRYING  PAN.  265 

gallant  North  Carolinian,  at  once  became  hotly  engaged ;  but 
there  was  no  time  to  stop  long.  Stuart  took  Young's  brigade — 
he  had  but  two — and,  making  a  detour  to  the  left,  charged 
straight  down  upon  the  enemy's  right  flank.  Cheers,  yells,  car 
bines  cracking — and  the  infantry  broke  and  scattered  in  the 
mountains,  dropping  large  numbers  of  the  newest,  brightest,  and 
handsomest  muskets  ever  handled.  The  force  was  declared  by 
prisoners  to  have  numbered  two  hundred  and  fifty,  of  whom 
about  twenty  were  taken.  Stuart  now  pushed  on  without  stop 
ping,  and  speedily  became  engaged  with  the  main  force  of  Fede 
ral  cavalry  at  James  City.  This  force  was  commanded  by  General 
Kilpatrick,  we  afterwards  discovered,  and  this  gentleman  had 
been  enjoying  himself  greatly.  There  was  a  race-course  near 
the  town  where  races  were  held,  General  Kilpatrick  having,  it 
is  said,  a  favorite  mare  called  "  Lively "  which  he  used  to  run 
against  a  blood  horse  in  his  artillery  called  the  "  Battery  Horse." 
What  became  of  the  "Battery  Horse  "  this  historian  cannot  say ; 
but — to  anticipate  events — the  fate  of  "Lively"  can  be  stated. 
Later  in  the  fall,  the  general  was  running  "  Lively  "  near  Ma- 
nassas,  when  she  flew  the  track,  and  two  men  were  sent  after 
her.  Neither  "Lively"  nor  the  men  ever  returned.  In  fact, 
some  of  "  Mosby's  people  "  had  been  unseen  spectators  of  the 
race  from  the  adjoining  woods,  and  these  gentry  took  charge 
both  of  the  mare  and  the  men  sent  after  her.  "  I  really  must 
have  that  mare,"  General  Stuart  said,  when  he  heard  the  incident, 
but  her  captors  retained  her. 

I  am  anticipating.  General  Kilpatrick  was  in  command  at 
James  City,  and,  drawing  up  his  cavalry  on  the  high  ground 
beyond,  prepared  to  receive  Stuart's  attack.  None  was  made. 
It  was  not  a  part  of  the  programme.  Stuart's  orders  were  to 
keep  the  enemy  off  the  infantry  flanks,  and  this  could  best  be 
accomplished  by  remaining  quiet.  So,  every  demonstration  was 
made;  lines  of  sharpshooters  were  advanced,  our  artillery 
opened,  and — no  attack  was  made.  Thus  the  hours  passed  on. 
Shells  raced  across  the  little  valley.  Carbines  cracked.  An  out 
side  spectator  would  have  said  that  the  opponents  were  afraid  of 
each  other.  The  truth  was  that  General  Stuart  was  playing  his 


266  WEARING    OF  THE    GRAY. 

own  game,  and  his  adversary  did  not  understand  it.  At  last, 
even  the  firing  ceased.  Fronting  each  other  in  line  of  battle,  the 
opponents  waited  in  silence  for  some  movement.  The  stillness 
was,  however,  broken  suddenly  by  an  incident,  amusing,  but  by 
no  means  agreeable,  at  least  from  our  point  of  view.  General 
Stuart  was  lying  down,  surrounded  by  his  staff  and  escort,  with 
his  flag  floating  on  the  top  of  the  hill,  when,  behind  a  fringe  of 
woods,  near  the  Federal  cavalry  drawn  up  in  long  line  of  battle 
on  the  opposite  plateau,  was  seen  a  puff  of  white  smoke.  A  roar 
followed,  then  the  whistle  of  a  shell,  and  this  polite  visitor  fell 
and  burst  in  the  very  midst  of  the  group.  It  was  a  percussion 
shell,  and  exploded  as  it  struck,  tearing  up  a  deep  hole  and 
vanishing,  without  injuring  a  single  individual.  As  the  present 
writer  was  covered  with  the  dirt  where  he  lay,  and  found  by 
inspection  that  it  had  been  a  "line  shot,"  striking  within  three 
or  four  feet  of  his  head,  the  incident  was  highly  pleasing.  The 
shell  was  followed  by  others,  but  no  harm  was  done  by  them, 
and  it  is  not  necessary  to  say  that  the  friendly  group,  with  the 
flag  floating  so  temptingly  above  it,  deployed  to  the  right  and 
left,  laughing,  and  not  displeased  at  the  result  of  the  first  "  good 
shot." 

At  night  the  Federal  cavalry  were  still  there,  and  Stuart  still 
remained  quiet.       His  headquarters   that   night   were    at   Mr. 

H 's  where  that  brave  spirit,  General  Gordon,  of  the  cavalry, 

came  to  see  him.  It  is  a  melancholy  pleasure  to  recall  the  gal 
lant  face  of  Gordon,  now  that  he  is  dead  ;  to  remember  his 
charming  smile,  his  gay  humour ;  the  elegant  little  speech  which 
he  made  as  he  gallantly  presented  a  nosegay  to  the  fair  Miss 

H ,  bowing  low  as  he  did  so  amid  friendly  laughter.     When 

he  fell  he  left  behind  him  no  braver  soldier  or  kindlier  gentle 
man. 


II. 

At  dawn  Stuart  was  again  in  the  saddle,  pressing  forward 
upon  the  retiring  enemy. 

Ewell  and  Hill  had  moved  unseen  to  their  position  on  the 


FKOM  THE  KAPIDAK   TO   FRYING   PAN.  267 

Sperryville  road,  thanks  to  the  stand  of  Stuart  at  James  City  ; 
and  now,  for  the  first  time,  the  enemy  seemed  to  understand  the 
nature  of  the  blow  about  to  be  struck.  General  Meade  had  put 
his  army  in  motion  toward  the  Kappahannock ;  and,  as  the 
advance  force  in  our  front  retired,  Stuart  pressed  them  closely. 
It  is  hard  to  say  whether  this  great  soldier  was  better  in  falling 
back  or  in  advancing.  When  he  retired  he  was  the  soul  of 
stubborn  obstinacy.  When  he  advanced  he  was  all  fire,  dash, 
and  impetus.  He  was  now  following  up  a  retreating  enemy, 
and  he  did  not  allow  the  grass  to  grow  under  his  feet. 

Below  Griffinsburg  the  rear-guard  of  the  Federal  cavalry  was 
attacked  and  driven  ;  and  Stuart  was  pushing  on,  when  the  pre 
sence  of  a  Federal  infantry  regiment  in  the  woods  to  his  right 
was  announced.  To  this  he  paid  no  attention,  but  drove  on, 
firing  upon  their  cavalry,  and  soon  the  good  judgment  of  this 
was  shown.  The  infantry  regiment  heard  the  firing,  feared 
being  cut  off,  and  double-quicked  toward  the  rear.  They 
reached  the  fields  on  Stone  House  Mountain  as  quickly  as  Stuart, 
moving  parallel  to  his  column,  and  suddenly  their  line  appeared. 
I  have  rarely  seen  General  Stuart  more  excited.  It  was  a  rich 
prize,  that  regiment,  and  it  appeared  in  his  grasp  !  But,  unfor 
tunately,  his  column  was  not  "  up."  He  was  leading  a  mere 
advance  guard,  and  that  was  scattered.  Every  available  staff- 
officer  and  courier  was  hurried  back  for  the  cavalry,  and  the 
"  Jefferson  Company,"  Lieutenant  Baylor,  got  up  first,  and 
charged  straight  at  the  flank  of  the  infantry.  They  were  sud 
denly  halted,  formed  line  of  battle,  and  the  bright  muskets  fell 
to  a  level  like  a  single  weapon.  The  cavalry  company  received 
the  fire  at  thirty  yards,  but  pressed  on,  and  would  doubtless  have 
ridden  over  the  infantry,  now  scattering  in  great  disorder,  but 
for  an  impassable  ditch.  Before  they  could  make  a  detour  to 
avoid  it,  the  Federal  infantry  had  scattered,  "  every  man  for  him 
self,"  in  the  woods,  dropping  guns,  knapsacks,  and  blankets. 

The  huge  camps  at  Stone  House  Mountain,  as  afterwards 
around  Culpeper  Court  House,  were  a  sort  of  "  Arabian  Nights  " 
of  wonder  to  the  gray  people.  The  troops  had  fixed  themselves 
in  the  most  admirable  manner  to  defy  the  coming  winter. 


268  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

Excellent  stone  chimneys,  of  every  form ;  cabins,  stoves,  tables, 
magazines,  books,  wine  and  rum -bottles  (empty),  oil-cloths, 
coats,  shoes,  arms — everything  was  scattered  about.  Harpers' 
Magazine  seemed  to  be  a  favourite ;  and  full  files  of  papers 
might  have  been  collected  in  the  deserted  cabins.  From  this 
abode  of  the  dolce  far  niente  the  rude  hand  of  war,  in  the  shape 
of  Stuart's  cavalry, -had  pushed  them. 

Stuart  continued  to  press  the  enemy  toward  the  Court- House ; 
and  there  their  cavalry  had  made  a  stand.  *  As  to  the  infantry,  it 
was  nowhere  visible  in  the  immense  camps  around  the  place — 
those  camps  which  contained,  like  the  first,  only  rubbish.  Not  a 
wagon,  ambulance,  or  piece  of  artillery,  I  believe,  was  captured. 
General  Meade  had  swept  clean.  There  were  even  very  few 
empty  boxes. 

On  "  Cumberland  George's  "  hill,  the  Federal  artillery  fought 
hard  for  a  time,  inflicting  some  loss  ;  but  Gordon  was  sent  round 
by  the  Rixeyville  Road  to  the  left ;  Stuart  advanced  in  front ; 
and  the  enemy  fell  back  toward  Brandy.  The  reader  will  re 
member  that  General  Fitz  Lee  had  been  left  on  the  Lower  Rapidan 
to  repulse  any  assault  in  that  direction,  and  the  expected  assault 
had  been  made.  I  think  it  was  General  Buford  who  attacked 
him ;  but  the  attack  was  unsuccessful,  and  as  the  enemy  fell  back 
Fitz  Lee  pressed  forward  on  the  track  of  the  retreating  column 
toward  Brandy.  We  now  heard  the  thunder  of  his  guns  upon 
the  right  as  he  pushed  on  toward  the  Rappahannock,  and  every 
thing  seemed  to  be  concentrating  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Fleet- 
wood  Hill,  the  scene  of  the  sanguinary  conflict  of  the  9th  of  June 
preceding.  There  the  great  struggle,  in  fact,  took  place — Stuart 
pressing  the  main  column  on  their  line  of  retreat  from  above, 
General  Fitz  Lee  pushing  as  vigorously  after  the  strong  force 
which  had  fallen  back  from  the  Rappahannock.  As  it  is  not 
the  design  of  the  writer  to  attempt  any  "  battle  pictures  "  in  this 
discursive  sketch,  he  omits  a  detailed  account  of  the  hard  fight 
which  followed.  It  was  among  the  heaviest  of  the  war,  and  for 
a  time  nothing  was  seen  but  dust,  smoke,  and  confused  masses 
reeling  to  and  fro ;  nothing  was  heard  but  shouts,  cheers,  yells, 
and  orders,  mixed  with  the  quick  bang  of  carbines  and  the  clash 


FKOM  THE  KAPIDAN  TO  FRYING  PAN.  269 

of  sabres — above  all,  and  the  continuous  thunder  of  the  artillery. 
It  was  as  "  mixed  up  "  as  any  fight  of  the  war,  and  at  one  time 
General  Stuart,  with  Colonel  Peyton,  of  General  Lee's  staff,  and 
one  or  two  other  officers,  found  himself  cut  off  by  the  enemy. 
He  got  out,  joined  his  column  to  Fitz  Lee's,  and  charging  the 
Federal  forces,  cavalry  and  infantry — the  latter  being  drawn  up 
on  Fleetwood  Hill — pressed  them  back  to  the  Eappahannock, 
which  they  hastened  to  cross.  General  Meade  had  thus  retreated 
from  Culpeper,  but  it  was  the  "  cleanest "  retreat  on  record,  as 
far  as  the  present  writer's  observation  extended.  He  imitated  it 
in  December  at  Mine  Eun. 

General  Lee  had  meanwhile  advanced  with  his  infantry  toward 
Warren  ton  Springs,  still  aiming  to  cut  General  Meade  off  from 
Manassas.  On  the  next  day  commenced  the  trial  of  skill 
between  the  two  commanders.  General  Meade's  cavalry  had 
been  so  rudely  hustled  by  Stuart,  and  the  cordon  placed  by  the 
latter  along  the  Kappahannock  was  so  effective,  that  the  Federal 
commander  was  absolutely  in  the  dark  as  to  his  great  adversary's 
position  and  designs.  On  the  afternoon  of  this — next — day,  there 
fore,  a  Federal  force  consisting  of  a  corps  of  infantry  and  two 
brigades  of  cavalry,  was  moved  across  the  Rappahannock  where 
the  Orange  railway  crosses  it,  and  this  force  pushed  straight 
toward  the  Court-House.  The  design  was  evidently  to  ascertain 
if  General  Lee  was  in  that  vicinity,  and  the  column  rapidly  ad 
vanced.  Near  Brandy  it  encountered  what  seemed  to  be  Stuart's 
entire  cavalry.  At  various  openings  in  the  woods  the  heads  of 
different  columns  were  seen,  calmly  awaiting  an  attack,  and  the 
Federal  infantry  and  cavalry  speedily  formed  line  of  battle,  pre 
pared  for  vigorous  engagement.  They  would  scarcely  have 
given  themselves  so  much  trouble  if  they  had  known  that  the 
entire  force  in  their  front  consisted  of  about  one  hundred  and  eighty 
men,  with  one  gun  under  Colonel  Rosser,  as  a  sort  of  grand 
picket  guard.  He  had  arranged  detachments  of  eight  or  ten  men 
as  above  indicated,  at  openings  in  the  woods,  to  produce  the  im 
pression  of  several  heavy  columns  ;  and  it  was  not  until  they  at 
tacked  him  that  they  discovered  the  ruse.  The  attack  once  made, 
all  further  concealment  was  impossible.  Kosser's  one  hundred 


270  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

and  eighty  men,  and  single  piece  of  artillery,  were  rapidly  driven 
back  by  the  enemy  ;  and  his  gun  was  now  roaring  from  the  high 
ground  just  below  the  Court- House,  when  the  clatter  of  hoofs 
was  heard  upon  the  streets  of  the  village.  It  was  the  gay  and 
gallant  P.  M.  B.  Young,  of  Georgia,  who  had  been  left  with  his 
brigade  near  James  City,  and  now  came  to  Eosser's  assistance. 
Young  passed  through  the  Court-House  at  a  trot,  hastened  to 
the  scene  of  action,  and,  dismounting  his  entire  brigade,  deployed 
them  as  sharpshooters,  and  made  a  sudden  and  determined 
attack  upon  the  enemy.  This  vigorous  movement  seems  to  have 
completely  deceived  them.  Night  was  now  falling  ;  they  could 
not  make  out  the  numbers  or  character  of  Young's  force ;  and 
an  attack  as  bold  as  his  must  surely  proceed  from  a  heavy  force 
of  infantry  !  Was  General  Lee  still  at  the  place,  with  one  of  his 
corps  d'armee  f  If  this  idea  entered  the  minds  of  the  enemy,  it 
must  have  been  encouraged  by  Young's  next  move.  He  had 
held  his  ground  without  flinching  ;  and  now,  as  night  descended, 
he  ordered  camp  fires  to  be  built  along  two  miles  of  front,  and 
bringing  up  his  splendid  brass  band,  played  the  "  Bonnie  Blue 
Flag  "  and  "  Dixie  "  with  defiant  animation.  This  ruse  seemed 
to  decide  the  matter ;  the  Federal  commander  made  no  further 
effort  to  advance ;  and  in  the  morning  there  was  not  a  Federal 
soldier  on  the  south  bank  of  the  Eappahannock.  Their  corps 
of  infantry  and  two  brigades  of  cavalry  had  "  fallen  back  in 
good  order  :  "  and  the  laughing  Young  remained  master  of  the 
situation. 

Stuart  had  pushed  on,  meanwhile,  toward  Warrenton  Springs, 
and  just  as  the  fight  above  described  commenced,  a  gallant  affair 
took  place  above.  The  enemy  were  attacked  in  the  town  of  Jef 
ferson  ton,  and  after  a  hot  fight  forced  back  to  Warrenton 
Springs,  where  the  Jefferson  Company  again  distinguished  itself. 
The  attempt  was  made  to  charge  over  the  bridge,  in  face  of  the 
enemy's  fire.  In  the  middle  of  the  structure  the  column  sudden 
ly  recoiled,  and  retreated.  The  cause  of  this  movement  was 
soon  discovered.  Several  of  the  planks  had  been  torn  up  in  the 
flooring  of  the  bridge,  and  to  cross  was  impossible.  The  Jeffer 
son  Company,  however,  did  not  abandon  their  work.  They  gal- 


FROM  THE  RAPIDAN  TO   FRYING  PAN.  271 

loped  to  the  ford,  Stuart  placed  himself  at  their  head,  and,  in  the 
face  of  a  heavy  and  determined  fire  from  a  double  line  of  Fede 
ral  sharpshooters,  they  charged  across.  The  Federal  force  gave 
way  before  them,  and  crossing  his  whole  column  Stuart  pushed 
on  upon  the  track  of  the  enemy  toward  Warrenton,  followed  by 
the  infantry,  who  had  witnessed  the  feats  of  their  cavalry  breth 
ren  with  all  the  satisfaction  of  "outside  spectators." 

In  Jeffersonton  and  at  Warrenton  Springs  many  brave  fellows 
had  fallen,  and  sad  scenes  were  presented.  Lieutenant  Chew 
had  fought  from  house  to  house  in  the  first  named  place,  and  in 
a  mansion  of  the  village  this  gallant  officer  lay  dying,  with  a  bul 
let  through  his  breast.  At  Mr.  M 's,  near  the  river,  young 

Marshall,  of  Fauquier,  a  descendant  of  the  Chief  Justice,  was 
lying  on  a  table,  covered  with  a  sheet — dead,  with  a  huge,  bloody 
hole  in  the  centre  of  his  pale  forehead ;  while  in  a  bed  opposite 
lay'  a  wounded  Federal  officer.  In  the  fields  around  were  dead 
men,  dead  horses,  and  abandoned  arms. 

The  army  pushed  on  to  Warrenton,  the  cavalry  still  in 
advance,  and  on  the  evening  of  the  next  day  Stuart  rapidly 
advanced  with  his  column  to  reconnoitre  toward  Catlett's  Station, 
the  scene  of  his  great  raid  in  August,  1862,  when  he  captured 
General  Pope's  coat  and  official  papers.  The  incident  which  fol 
lowed  was  one  of  the  most  curious  of  the  war. 


III. 

Stuart  had  just  passed  Auburn,  when  General  Gordon,  com 
manding  the  rear  of  his  column,  sent  him  word  that  a  heavy 
force  of  the  enemy's  infantry  had  closed  in  behind  him,  com 
pletely  cutting  him  off  from  General  Lee.  As  at  the  same 
moment  an  army  corps  of  Federal  infantry  was  discovered  mov 
ing  across  his  front,  General  Stuart  awoke  to  the  unpleasant 
consciousness  that  his  little  force  of  cavalry  was  securely  hemmed 
in  between  overpowering  masses  of  the  enemy,  who,  as  soon  as 
they  discovered  the  presence  of  the  audacious  interlopers,  would 
unquestionably  attack  and  cut  them  to  pieces. 


272  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

The  "  situation  "  was  now  in  the  highest  degree  critical.  In 
fact,  Stuart  had  managed  to  get  his  command  inclosed  between 
the  two  retreating  columns  of  General  Meade — infantry,  cavalry, 
and  artillery — and  these  columns,  as  they  moved  across  his  front 
and  rear,  were  converging  toward  Bristoe,  near  Manassas.  The 
only  hope  of  safety  lay  in  complete  concealment  of  his  presence, 
and  General  Stuart  issued  the  most  stringent  orders  to  his  troops 
that  no  noise  of  any  description  should  be  made  during  the  night. 
There  was  little  necessity  to  impress  this  upon  the  command. 
Within  a  few  hundred  yards  of  them,  in  front  and  in  rear,  were 
moving  the  huge  columns  of  the  enemy  ;  the  feet  of  the  infantry 
shuffling,  the  hoofs  of  the  cavalry  clattering,  the  artillery  wheels 
and  chains  rolling  and  jingling,  and  above  the  whole  the  stifled 
hum  of  an  army  on  the  march.  The  men  sat  motionless  and 
silent  in  the  saddle,  listening,  throughout  the  long  hours  of  the 
night.  No  man  spoke ;  no  sound  was  heard  from  human  lips 
as  the  little  force  remained  perdu  in  the  darkness.  But  the 
"dumb  animals"  were  not  equally  intelligent,  and  more  than 
once  some  thoughtless  horse  neighed  or  some  indiscreet  donkey 
in  the  artillery  uttered  his  discordant  notes.  In  the  noise  of  the 
Federal  retreat  the'se  sounds,  however,  were  not  observed,  and 
thus  the  night  wore  on  and  daylight  came. 

The  first  glimmer  showed  General  Stuart  that  the  Federal  forces 
had  nearly  all  passed.  In  fact  the  rear  force  had  halted  within  a 
few  hundred  yards  of  his  position  and  were  cooking  their  break 
fasts.  Now  was  his  opportunity,  not  only  to  extricate  himself, . 
but  to  take  vengeance  for  the  long  hours  of  anxiety  and  peril. 
Picked  men  had  been  sent  during  the  night  to  pass  through  the 
advancing  column  ancl  announce  the  critical  position  of  affairs  to 
General  Lee,  and  Stuart  had  suggested  a  vigorous  infantry 
attack  upon  the  enemy's  left  flank  while  he  attacked  their  right. 
Not  hearing  from  General  Lee,  he  took  the  initiative.  At  dawn 
he  put  his  artillery  in  position,  drew  up  his  cavalry,  and  opened 
a  thundering  fire  upon  the  Federal  troops ;  knocking  over  their 
coffee-pots,  and  scattering  them  in  wild  confusion.  They  rallied, 
however,  and  made  a  vigorous  attack — a  severe  though  brief 
engagement  following — but  Stuart  repulsed  this  assault,  slowly 


FROM  THE  RAPIDAN  TO  FRYING  PAN.  273 

fell  back,  and  soon  his  little  command  was  extricated  from,  its 
peril.  Altogether  this  was  a  curious  affair.  It  was  not  attrac 
tive,  however  "romantic."  One  of  the  bravest  infantry  officers 
of  the  army,  who  accompanied  the  expedition  as  an  amateur, 
declared,  laughing,  that  he  was  "done  with  the  cavalry — the 
infantry  was  enough  for  him  thereafter." 

Meanwhile  General  Lee  was  pressing  the  retiring  enemy  toward 
Bristoe ;  Stuart  on  the  right,  and  General  Fitz  Lee  moving  on 
their  left,  through  New  Baltimore.  There  was  some  fatal  blun 
der,  however,  in  the  execution  of  General  Lee's  orders,  or  else 
some  obstacle  which  could  not  be  overcome.  General  Meade 
pushed  on  and  crossed  Broad  Run,  making  with  his  main  body 
for  Manassas.  When  the  Southern  advance  force  reached  Bris 
toe  they  found  the  main  Federal  army  gone.  A  strong  force, 
however,  remained,  and  this  was  drawn  up  behind  a  long  rail 
road  embankment  serving  admirably  as  a  breastwork.  The  men 
had  only  to  lie  down  upon  the  slope,  rest  their  muskets  on  the 
track  of  the  railroad,  and  sweep  the  open  field  in  their  front  with 
a  shower  of  balls  if  the  Confederates  attacked.  The  attack  was 
made — straight  across  open  ground,  down  a  slope,  right  on  the 
embankment.  The  consequence  was  that  Cooke's  brigade,  which 
was  ordered  to  make  the  attempt,  was  nearly  annihilated,  the  Gene 
ral  falling  among  the  first  at  the  head  of  his  troops :  and,  advanc 
ing  against  the  line  to  his  left,  the  enemy  captured,  I  believe,  nine 
pieces  of  artillery.  After  this  exploit  they  quietly  retired  across 
Broad  Run,  and  rejoined  the  main  column.  A  worse  managed 
affair  than  that  fight  at  Bristoe  did  not  take  place  during  the 
war.  "  Well,  well,  General,"  Lee  is  reporte/i  to  have  said  to  tho 
officer  who  essayed  to  explain  the  occurrence,  "  bury  these  poor 
men,  and  let  us  say  no  more  about  it."  General  Meade  was 
behind  Bull  Run  fortifying. 

Thus  terminated  General  Lee's  vigorous  attempt  to  bring  on  a 
pitched  battle  with  Meade.  That  was  his  design,  as  it  was  Gene 
ral  Meade's  design  in  coming  over  to  Mine  Run  in  the  succeed 
ing  December.  Both  schemes  failed.  From  the  high  ground 
beyond  Bristoe,  Lee,  surrounded  by  his  generals,  reconnoitred 
the  retiring  rear-guard  of  the  enemy,  and  issued  his  orders  for 

18 


274  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

the  army  to  retrace  its  steps  to  the  Rappahannock.  The  cavalry 
had  not,  however,  finished  their  work.  The  fine  October  wea 
ther  was  admirable  for  active  movement,  and  Stuart  pushed 
straight  on  to  Manassas,  harassing  the  Federal  forces  as  they 
crossed  Bull  Kun.  At  Blackburn's  Ford,  General  Fitz  Lee  had 
a  brisk  engagement,  which  drove  the  Federal  cavalry  across; 
and,  near  Yates's  Ford,  General  Stuart  charged  over  a  barricade 
at  the  head  of  his  horsemen,  scattered  the  Federal  sharpshooters, 
and  drove  to  and  across  the  stream  their  cavalry  and  artillery. 

An  odd  incident  marked  this  occasion.  It  was  about  dusk 
when  the  enemy  began  to  retire  from  our  front,  their  artillery 
roaring  on  the  right,  but  taking  position  after  position,  each 
nearer  Bull  Run.  General  Stuart  was  within  about  four  hundred 
yards  of  the  Federal  guns,  in  the  edge  of  the  woods,  surrounded 
by  his  staff,  escort,  etc.,  one  of  whom  had  just  taken  up  a  dead 
man  before  him  to  carry  off.  At  this  moment,  among  the  figures 
moving  to  and  fro,  one — apparently  a  member  of  the  staff  or 
escort — was  seen  quietly  riding  out  into  the  field,  as  if  to  gain  a 
better  view  of  the  Federal  artillery.  "  Who  is  that  ? "  said  Gene 
ral  Stuart,  pointing  to  the  figure,  indistinct  in  the  dusk.  u  One 
of  the  couriers,"  some  one  replied.  "  No ! "  returned  Stuart, 
"halt  him!"  Two  men  immediately  galloped  after  the  sus 
pected  individual,  who  was  easily,  carelessly,  and  quietly  edging 
off;  and  he  speedily  returned  between  them.  Behold  !  he  wore 
under  his  oilcloth  a  blue  coat!  "What  do  you  belong  to?" 
asked  Stuart.  "  The  First  Maine,  sir,"  responded  the  other  with 
great  nonchalance.  In  fact,  the  "gentleman  from  Maine "  had 
got  mixed  up  with  us  when  the  column  went  over  the  barricade; 
and,  wrapped  in  his  oilcloth,  had  listened  to  the  remarks  of 
Stuart  and  his  staff,  until  he  thought  he  could  get  away.  The 
quick  eye  of  General  Stuart,  however,  penetrated  his  disguise, 
and  he  was  a  prisoner. 

It  was  now  night,  and  operations  were  over  for  the  day.  The 
retreat  had  been  admirably  managed.  General  Meade  had  car 
ried  off  everything.  We  did  not  capture  a  wagon  wheel.  All 
was  beyond  Bull  Kun.  The  present  writer  here  records  his 
own  capture,  viz.  one  oilcloth,  one  feed  of  oats,  found  in  the 


FROM  THE  RAPIDAN  TO   FRYING  PAN.  275 

road,  and  one  copy  of  Harper's  Magazine,  full  of  charming  pic 
tures  of  rebels,  running,  or  being  annihilated,  in  every  portion 
of  the  country.  On  the  next  morning,  Stuart  left  Fitz  Lee 
in  front  of  Bull  Eun,  to  oppose  any  advance  of  the  Federal  cav 
alry  there,  and,  taking  Hampton's  division,  set  out  through  a 
torrent  of  rain  to  make  a  flank  movement  against  General 
Meade's  right  beyond  the  Little  River  Turnpike.  He  had  in 
tended  to  cross  at  Sudley  Ford,  but  coming  upon  the  Federal 
cavalry  near  Groveton,  a  fight  ensued,  and  the  column  could 
not  cross  there  without  having  the  movement  unmasked.  Stuart 
accordingly  turned  to  the  left;  made  a  detour  through  Gains- 
ville ;  and  advancing,  amid  a  violent  storm,  bivouacked  that 
night  beyond  the  Little  Catharpin.  The  General  on  this  day 
kept  his  entire  staff  and  surroundings  in  great  good-humour,  by 
his  songs  and  laughter,  which  only  seemed  to  grow  more  jovial 
as  the  storm  became  more  violent.  I  hope  the  reader  will  not 
regard  this  statement  as  "  unworthy  of  the  dignity  of  history." 
Fortunately  I  am  not  writing  history  ;  only  a  poor  little  sketch 
of  a  passage  in  the  life  of  a  very  great  man ;  and  it  has  seemed 
to  me  that  all  concerning  him  is  interesting.  Pardon !  august 
muse  of  history,  that  dealest  in  protocols  and  treaties !  We 
pass  on. 

The  weather  was  charming,  as  on  the  next  morning  the  column 
advanced  toward  "  Frying- Pan  Church,"  and  the  troopers  sub 
sisted  delightfully  upon  chinquepins,  chestnuts,  persimmons,  and 
wild  grapes.  Reaching  a  magnificent  apple-tree,  weighed  down 
with  fruit  as  red  as  carnations,  the  men,  with  the  fullest  per 
mission  from  the  hospitable  owner,  threw  themselves  upon  it, 
and  soon  the  whole  was  stripped,  the  soldiers  going  on  their  way 
rejoicing.  Never  have  I  seen  more  splendid  weather  than  those 
October  days,  or  more  beautiful  tints  in  the  foliage.  Pity  that 
the  natural  red  of  the  birch  and  dogwood  was  not  enough  with 
out  blood!  Stuart  advanced  rapidly,  and  near  Frying-Pan 
Church  came  upon  and  at  once  attacked  the  Second  corps  of 
Federal  infantry.  A  long  ling  of  sharpshooters  was  formed, 
which  advanced  on  foot  in  line  of  battle.  The  artillery  roared, 
and  at  first  the  Federal  troops  gave  ground.  The  aspect  of 


276  WEARING    OF  THE    GRAY. 

affairs  speedily  changed,  however,  and  a  strong  Federal  force, 
advancing  in  order  of  battle,  made  it  necessary  for  Stuart  to 
withdraw.  This  was  done  at  once,  with  great  deliberation,  and 
at  the  "  Recall  "  of  the  bugle  the  skirmishers  slowly  moved  back 
and  gained  the  woods.  A  spectacle  which  aroused  the  good- 
humoured  laughter  of  those  who  witnessed  it,  was  a  staff  officer 
carrying  off  in  his  arms  a  young  lady  of  about  fourteen  from  a 
house  which  the  enemy  were  about  to  have  within  their  lines. 
This  was  done  at  the  suggestion  of  the  General ;  and  although 
the  bullets  were  flying  and  the  officer's  horse  was  "  dancing  upon 
all  four  feet,"  the  young  lady  declared  herself  "  not  afraid,"  and 
did  not  change  colour  at  the  bullets.  If  this  meets  the  fair  girl's 
eye  she  is  informed  that  the  officer  has  still  the  gray  who  came« 
near  unseating  her  as  he  jumped  the  fence,  and  that  his  rider 
has  not  forgotten  the  smiling  little  face,  but  remembers  it  with 
admiration  and  pleasure! 

IV. 

That  night  General  Stuart  was  moving  steadily  back  by  the 
same  route  which  he  had  pursued  in  advancing,  and  on  the  next 
day  he  had  reached  the  vicinity  of  Bucklands. 

The  army  had  fallen  back,  tearing  up  the  road,  and  General 
Stuart  now  prepared  to  follow,  the  campaign  having  come  to  an 
end.  He  was  not,  however,  to  be  permitted  to  fall  back  without 
molestation,  and  his  command  was  to  be  present  at  the  "  Buck- 
land  Races."  This  comic  episode  will  be  briefly  described,  and 
the  event  related  just  as  it  occurred,  without  embellishment  or 
exaggeration.  General  Kilpatrick,  commanding  the  Federal 
cavalry,  had  been  very  much  outraged,  it  would  appear,  at  the 
hasty  manner  in  which  Stuart  had  compelled  him  to  evacuate 
Culpeper;  and  he  now  felt  an  ardent  desire,  before  the  cam 
paign  ended,  to  give  the  great  cavalier  a  "Roland  for  his  Oliver." 
With  about  3,000  cavalry  he  accordingly  crossed  Bull  Run, 
following  upon  Stuart's  track  as  the  latter  fell  back ;  and  soon 
he  had  reached  the  little  village  of  Bucklands,  not  far  from  New 
Baltimore. 


FROM  THE   BAPIDAN   TO   FEYING   PAN.  277 

Stuart  had  disappeared;  but  these  disappearances  of  Stuart, 
like  those  of  Jackson,  were  always  dangerous.  In  fact,  a  ruse 
was  about  to  be  practised  upon  General  Kilpatrick,  who  was 
known  to  want  caution,  and  this  ruse  was  of  the  simplest  descrip 
tion.  Stuart  had  arranged  that  he  should  retire  before  Kilpatrick 
as  he  advanced,  until  the  Federal  column  was  beyond  Buck- 
lands — then  Fitz  Lee,  who  had  fallen  back  from  Manassas  on 
the  line  of  the  Orange  Eailroad,  would  have  an  opportunity  to 
fall  upon  the  enemy's  flank  and  rear.  The  sound  of  Fitz  Lee's 
guns  would  be  the  signal  for  Stuart  to  face  about  and  attack ; 
Kilpatrick  would  thus  be  assailed  in  front  and  flank  at  the  same 
instant,  and  the  result  would  probably  be  satisfactory.  This 
plan  was  carried  out  exactly  as  Stuart  had  arranged.  General 
Kilpatrick  reached  Bucklands,  and  is  said  to  have  stated  while 
dining  at  a  house  there  that  "  he  would  not  press  Stuart  so  hard, 
but  he  (Stuart)  had  boasted  of  driving  him  (Kilpatrick)  out  of 
Culpeper,  and  he  was  going  to  give  him  no  rest."  It  is  said 
that  General  Kilpatrick  had  scarcely  uttered  this  threat  when 
the  roar  of  artillery  was  heard  upon  his  left  flank,  and  this  was 
speedily  reechoed  by  similar  sounds  in  his  front.  In  fact,  Gene 
ral  Fitz  Lee  had  carried  out  his  half  of  the  programme,  and 
Stuart  hastened  to  do  the  rest.  At  the  sound  of  General  Lee's 
artillery  Stuart  faced  about,  formed  his  command  in  three 
columns,  and  charged  straight  upon  the  enemy's  front,  while 
General  Fitz  Lee  fell  upon  his  flanks.  The  consequence  was  a 
complete  rout  of  the  Federal  cavalry,  wh'o  scattered  in  every 
direction,  throwing  down  their  arms  as  they  fled,  and  the  flight 
of  many,  it  is  said,  was  not  checked  until  they  reached  Alexan 
dria.  General  Ouster's  headquarter  wagons  and  papers  were 
captured — as  happened,  I  believe,  to  the  same  officer  twice  sub 
sequently — and  the  pursuing  force,  under  Kilpatrick,  gave 
Stuart  no  more  trouble  as  he  fell  back.  This  engagement 
afforded  huge  enjoyment  to  the  Southern  cavalry,  as  it  was  almost 
bloodless,  and  resembled  a  species  of  trap  into  which  their  oppo 
nents  fell.  Nothing  amuses  troops  more  than  this  latter  circum 
stance,  and  the  affair  continues  to  be  known  among  the  dis 
banded  troopers  of  Stuart,  as  the  "  Buckland  Races." 


278  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

This  engagement  ended  the  campaign  as  far  as  the  cavalry 
were  concerned,  and  it  was  the  movements  of  this  arm  that  I 
proposed  to  outline.  These  were  uniformly  successful,  while 
those  of  the  infantry,  from  what  appeared  to  be  some  fatality, 
were  regularly  unsuccessful.  While  the  cavalry  drove  their 
opponents  before  them  at  Stone  House  Mountain,  Culpeper 
Court-House,  Brandy,  Warrenton  Springs,  Bull  Eun,  and  Buck- 
lands,  the  infantry  failed  to  arrest  the  enemy  at  Auburn  ;  were 
repulsed  at  Bristoe  with  the  loss  of  several  guns ;  and  now,  on 
the  Kappahannock,  was  to  occur  that  ugly  affair  at  the  railroad 
bridge,  in  which  two  brigades  of  General  Lee's  army  were  sur 
prised,  overpowered,  and  captured  almost  to  a  man.  Such  is  the 
curiously  mingled  "  warp  and  woof"  of  war.  It  was  the  Army 
of  Northern  Virginia,  led  by  Ewell  and  Hill,  with  General  Lee 
commanding  in  person,  which  sustained  these  losses,  and  failed 
in  the  object  which  the  great  soldier  declared  he  had  in  view — 
to  cut  off  and  fight  a  pitched  battle  with  General  Meade.  The 
movements  of  this  latter  commander  entitled  him  to  high  praise, 
and  he  exhibited  throughout  the  brief  campaign  a  vigour  and 
acumen  which  only  belong  to  the  thorough  soldier. 

Such  is  an  outline  of  some  incidents  in  this  rapid  campaign ; 
this  hasty  movement  backward  and  forward  on  the  great  chess 
board  of  war.  The  discursive  sketch  here  laid  before  the  reader 
may  convey  some  idea  of  the  occurrences  as  they  actually  took 
place.  From  the  "  official  reports  "  the  grave  Muse  of  History 
will  sum  up  the  results,  generalizing  upon  the  importance  or 
non-importance  of  the  events.  This  page  aims  at  no  generaliza 
tion  at  all,  but  simply  to  show  how  Stuart  and  Fitz  Lee,  with 
their  brave  comrades,  did  the  work  assigned  to  them  in  those 
bright  October  days  of  1863. 


IX. 

MAJOR  R 'S  LITTLE  PRIVATE  SCOUT. 


NOTHING  is  more  curious  than  the  manner  in  which  a  sudden 
and  unexpected  attack  imposes  upon  the  recipients  thereof;  and 
it  is  safe  to  say  that  none  but  the  best  troops,  trained  and  dis 
ciplined  to  stand  firm  under  all  contingencies,  can  be  counted  on 
in  such  moments  of  emergency. 

The  following  incident  will  prove  the  truth  of  this  assertion. 
It  is  not  related  "for  the  greater  glory"  of  the  Southern  arms, 
so  much  as  to  present  a  curious  illustration  of  the  effect  upon 
the  human  mind  of  a  sudden  surprise. 

A  word  first  of  the  doughty  sabreur  who  figured  as  hero  on 

the  occasion,  my  friend,  Major  E ,  of  the  C.  S.  A. 

The  Major  is  stout,  rosy,  of  a  portly  figure,  and  from  his  ap 
pearance  you  would  not  take  him  for  a  very  active  or  dangerous 
personage.  But  he  is  both.  No  man  delights  more  in  move 
ment,  adventure,  and  combat.  No  man  sits  a  horse  with  more 
of  the  true  cavalry  ease.  You  may  see  from  the  manner  in 
which  he  handles  his  sabre  that  he  is  master  of  that  weapon ; 
and  in  the  charge  he  is  a  perfect  thunderbolt.  He  fingers  his 
pistol  and  makes  the  barrels  revolve  with  admirable  grace ;  his 
salute  with  the  sabre  is  simply  perfection ;  his  air,  as  he  listens 
to  an  order  from  his  superior  officer,  says  plainly,  "  All  I  wish 
is  to  know  what  you  want  me  to  do,  General — if  it  can  be  done 
it  will  be  done."  This  air  does  not  deceive.  It  is  well  known 
to  the  Majors  friends  that  his  motto  is,  "  Neck  or  nothing."  At 


280  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

Mine  Kim,  when  General  Meade  confronted  the  Southern  lines, 
the  worthy  said  to  me,  "  A  soldier's  duty  is  to  obey  his  orders; 
and  if  General  Stuart  told  me  to  charge  the  Yankee  army  by 
myself,  I  would  do  it.  He  would  be  responsible." 

It  will  be  seen  from  the  above  sketch  of  the  gallant  Major, 
that  he  is  a  thorough  soldier.  In  fact  he  loves  his  profession, 
and  is  not  satisfied  with  performing  routine  duty.  He  is  fond 
of  volunteering  on  forlorn  hopes,  and  in  desperate  emergencies 
— when  he  cannot  get  at  the  blue-coats  for  any  length  of  time — 
he  pines. 

This  mood  came  to  him  in  the  fall  of  1862.  Quiet  had 
reigned  along  the  lines  so  long,  that  he  grew  melancholy.  His 
appetite  did  not  fail,  as  far  as  his  friends  could  perceive,  but 
something  obviously  rested  on  his  mind.  Jle  was  rusting,  and 
was  conscious  of  the  process.  "  Why  don't  the}'  come  out  and 
fight?"  the  Major  seemed  to  ask  with  his  calm,  sad  eyes.  They 
were  in  Virginia  for  the  purpose  of  "crushing  the  rebellion," — 
why  didn't  they  set  about  the  work? 

These  questions  meeting  with  no  satisfactory  response,  Major 

R determined  himself  to  take  the  initiative,  and  see  if  he 

could  not  bring  on  a  little  light,  all  on  his  private  account.  He 
would  thus  relieve  his  bosom  of  the  perilous  stuff  which  preyed 
upon  his  heart.  It  had,  indeed,  become  absolutely  necessary  to 
his  peace  of  mind  to  come  into  collision  with  his  friends  across 
the  way,  and  he  set  about  devising  the  best  plan  for  arriving  at 
his  object. 

The  Southern  cavalry  to  which  the  Major  was  attached,  at 
that  time  occupied  the  county  of  Culpeper,  and  picketed  along 
the  Rappahannock.  So  did  the  enemy's  horsemen,  and  the 
Federal  pickets  were  stationed  on  the  southern  bank  at  every 
ford.  This  was  the  case  at  Warrenton  Springs,  where  a  bridge, 
afterwards  destroyed,  spanned  the  Rappahannock ;  and  at  this 
point  Major  R —  —  determined  to  bring  on  the  little  affair  which 
had  become  so  necessary  to  his  happiness.  He  intended  to  com 
bine  pleasure  with  business  by  visiting  some  young  ladies  at  a 
hospitable  mansion  not  far  from  the  bridge;  and  having  thus 
laid  out  his  programme  he  proceeded  to  execute  it,  and  "all 


MAJOR  R JS  LITTLE  PRIVATE  SCOUT.  281 

alone  by  himself"  attack  the  picket  guard  of  some  twenty  of 
the  enemy. 

Behold  the  Major  now  in  warlike  panoply — that  is  to  say,  in 
fine  gray  dress  coat  with  burnished  buttons  (for  the  eyes  of 
Yenus  after  the  conflict  with  Mars) ;  pistol  carefully  loaded,  in 
holster  on  his  right  side;  and  sabre  in  excellent  order,  jingling 
against  his  top  boots.  It  was  a  saying  of  the  worthy,  that  he 
"generally  kept  his  arms  in  good  order,"  and  on  this  occasion 
nothing  was  left  to  be  desired.  His  pistol  revolved  at  the  touch, 
with  a  clear  ringing  click ;  and  you  could  see  your  face  in  his 
sabre  blade.  Thus  accoutred,  and  mounted  on  a  good,  active 
horse,  he  set  off  from  Hazel  river,  and  making  a  detour  around 

Jeffersonton,  came  to  an  elevation  in  rear  of  Mr. 's  house, 

where  he  stopped  to  reconnoitre. 

The  Federal  picket — of  nineteen  men,  as  he  afterwards  dis 
covered — was  at  the  bridge ;  and  in  the  yard  of  the  mansion 
were  two  videttes,  with  their  horses  tied  to  the  trees  under  which 
they  were  lying.  Whether  he  could  succeed  in  "  driving  in  " 
the  whole  picket  was  problematical,  but  the  videttes  were  pretty 
sure  game.  He  would  either  run  them  off  or  capture  them. 

With  the  Major  execution  followed  conception  rapidly.  Push 
ing  boldly  over  the  crest  from  behind  which  he  had  made  his 
reconnoissance,  he  charged  across  the  field  at  a  thundering  gallop, 
whirling  his  burnished  sabre  around  his  head,  yelling  in  a  man 
ner  that  was  truly  awful ;  and  shouting  as  he  rode  to  a  sup 
posititious  squadron  : 

"  Charge !  charge !  cut  down  every  man  !" 

So  portentous  was  the  reverberating  shout  of  onset  from  the 
lips  of  the  Major,  that  the  videttes  started  to  their  feet,  and 
clutched  the  bridles  of  their  horses  instantly.  As  the  warlike 
figure,  surrounded  by  the  brilliant  lightning  of  the  flashing  sabre, 
swept  on,  the  videttes  probably  saw  at  least  a  squadron  of 
"  Kebel  cavalry  "  in  the  dust  which  rose  behind ;  and  hastily 
mounting,  darted  away,  pursued  by  the  triumphant  Major,  whose 
yells  were  now  more  tremendous  than  ever. 

Across  the  broad  field,  past  the  house,  on  toward  the  bridge, 
galloped  the  furious  assailant,  bent  on  striking  terror  to  the 


282  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

enemy's  hearts,  and  successfully  completing  his  adventure 
Before  him  fled  the  frightened  videttes — their  movements  ac 
celerated  by  several  balls,  which  issued  from  the  Major's  pistol, 
and  whistled  by  their  ears.  On  toward  the  bridge,  and  into  th<j 
midst  of  the  picket  fled  the  videttes;  and  as  the  Major's  shouts, 
and  vociferous  orders  to  his  cavalry  to  charge,  and  let  no  one 
escape,  resounded  nearer,  the  pickets,  too,  mounted  in  hot  haste, 
and  clattered  across  the  bridge,  pursued  by  the  Major's  pistol 
shots. 

In  vain  did  the  officer  in  charge  of  the  picket-post  shout  to  his 
men : 

"Halt!  halt!  Shoot  down  the  rascal!  Shoot  him  down  T 
say !  There's  only  one  of  them !  " 

His  voice  was  unheard  or  his  order  unheeded.  The  picket 
was  composed  of  stuff  less  soldierly  than  their  officer,  and  would 
not  obey  him.  Before  their  vivid  imaginations  rose  at  least  a 
squadron  of  Confederate  cavalry,  sweeping  on  to  ride  over  them, 
sword  in  hand. 

The  result  was  that  Major  K in  ten  minutes  had  posses 
sion  of  the  bridge,  and  sat  his  horse  defiantly  in  the  middle  of 
it.  He  then  amused  himself  by  sending  a  few  parting  shots 
after  the  demoralized  picket,  and  having  performed  this  agree 
able  duty  rode  back  to  the  house  of  Mr. ,  laughing  low  in 

his  peculiar  way  ;  his  breast  completely  lightened  of  the  oppres 
sive  weight  which  had  so  long  weighed  upon  it. 

At  Mr.  -  — 's  he  met  with  a  triumphant  reception ;  was 
greeted  with  a  perfect  ovation.  The  young  ladies  of  the  man 
sion  were  crazy  almost  with  delight  at  the  manner  in  which  they 
had  been  delivered  from  the  presence  of  their  enemies;  and 
when  the  hero  of  the  occasion  made  his  appearance  they  met 
him  as  women  only  can  meet  their  deliverers — with  smiles  such 
as  shine  rarely  for  the  poor  "  civilian."  After  all  it  is  something 
to  be  a  soldier.  The  trade  is  hard,  but  the  feminine  eye  has  a 
peculiar  brightness  when  it  rests  on  the  sons  of  Mars ! — of  Mars, 
proverbially  the  favourite  of  Yen  us ! 

The  Major  was  an  old  soldier,  and  in  no  hurry  to  depart.  He 
counted  on  the  extent  of  the  "scare"  he  had  given  the  enemy, 


MAJOR  K 'S  LITTLE  SCOUT.  283 

and  quietly  enjoyed  himself  in  the  charming  society  of  his  host 
esses.  He  had  once  more  become  "  excellent  company."  The 
smile  had  returned  to  his  lips,  the  light  to  his  eyes.  That 
melancholy  which  had  made  his  friends  uneasy  had  quite  disap 
peared,  and  the  Major  was  "  himself  again" — that  is  to  say,  the 
gayest  and  most  delightful  of  companions. 

When,  rising  slowly  and  carelessly,  he  bade  his  friendly  enter 
tainers  good-bye,  he  was  again  happy.  He  came  back  to  camp, 
smiling,  amiable,  the  soul  of  sweetness  and  cheerfulness.  I  saw 
him.  He  was  absolutely  radiant.  His  eloquent  eye  beamed 
brightly ;  his  countenance  was  charming ;  his  movements  ener 
getic  and  elastic ;  the  fullest  satisfaction  was  apparent  in  every 
lineament  of  his  face.  His  gay  and  friendly  smile  seemed  to 
say,  "I  went  at  nineteen  of  them ;  ran  them  off;,  held  the  bridge 
against  them ;  had  an  excellent  supper,  a  delightful  talk — I  am 
happy !" 

Such  was  the  gay  little  comedy  which  I  heard  from  the  family 
of  Mr.  -  — ,  as  I  sat  upon  his  porch  and  conversed  with  them 
one  day.  The  narrative  is  precisely  true  in  every  particular, 
and  has  always  impressed  me  as  a  curious  illustration  of  the 
effect  of  "surprises"  upon  troops — of  the  enormous  power  ex 
erted  by  the  human  imagination. 


X. 

A  DASH  AT  ALDIE. 


IN  carelessly  looking  over  an  old  portfolio  yesterday — October 
31,  1866 — I  found  among  other  curious  records  of  the  war  a 
rude,  discoloured  scrap  of  paper,  written  in  pencil,  and  bearing 
date  October  31,  1862. 

Four  years,  day  for  day,  had  passed,  since  those  pencil  marks 
were  traced.  Four  years  !  not  a  long  time,  you  may  say,  in  the 
life  of  man.  But  longest  of  long  years — most  snail-like  in  their 
movement — most  terrible  for  that  delay  which  makes  the  stoutest 
heart  grow  sick,  were  those  four  twelvemonths  between  Octo 
ber,  1862,  and  October,  1866.  The  larger  portion  of  the  period 
was  spent  in  hoping — the  rest  of  it  in  despairing. 

But  I  wander  from  the  subject  of  this  sketch.  The  paper 
found  in  my  portfolio  contained  the  following  words,  written,  as 
I  have  said,  in  pencil : 

"  MOUNTSVILLE,  October  31,  1862. 

"  I  hereby  bind  myself,  on  my  word  of  honour,  not  to  take  up 
arms  against  the  Confederate  States,  or  in  any  manner  give  aid 
and  comfort  to  the  Federal  cause,  until  I  am  regularly  ex 
changed. 

"L.  — .  GOVE, 
Captain ." 

I  read  this  paper,  and  then  went  tack  and  read  it  over  again. 
A  careless  observer  would  have  seen  in  it  only  a  simple  and 
very  hastily  written  parole.  Bead  at  one  instant,  it  would  have 


A   DASH   AT   ALDIE.  285 

been  forgotten  in  the  next — a  veritable  leaf  of  autumn,  dry  and 
worthless. 

For  me  it  contained  much  more  than  was  written  on  it.  I  did 
not  throw  it  aside.  I  read  it  over  a  third  time,  and  it  made  a 
dolorous  impression  on  my  heart.  For  that  paper,  written  by 
myself  four  years  ago,  and  signed  by  a  dying  man  whose  hand 
staggered  as  it  traversed  the  sheet,  leaving  the  name  of  the  writer 
almost  illegible,  his  full  official  rank  unrecorded — that  paper 
brought  back  to  my  memory  a  day  near  Aldie,  when  it  was  my 
sorrowful  duty  to  parole  a  brother  human  being  in  articulo 
mortis. 

"  A  brother  human  being,  do  you  say  ?  He  was  only  a 
Yankee ! "  some  one  may  object.  No — he  was  my  brother, 
and  yours,  reader,  whether  you  wore  blue  or  gray.  Did  you 
wear  the  gray,  then  ?  So  did  I.  Did  you  hate  the  invaders  of 
Virginia?  So  did  I.  You  may  have  been  able  to  see  this 
enemy  die  in  agony,  and  not  pity  him.  I  was  not.  And  the 
proof  is,  that  the  sight  of  the  paper  which  his  faint  hand  touched 
as  he  drew  his  last  breath,  has  struck  me  wofully,  and  blotted 
out  a  part  of  the  autumn  sunshine  yonder  on  the  mountains. 

I  have  nothing  to  reproach  myself  with — the  reader  shall 
judge  of  that — but  this  poor  rough  scrap  of  paper  with  its 
tremulous  signature  moves  me  all  the  same. 


II. 

It  was  in  the  last  days  of  October,  1862.  McClellan  had  fol 
lowed  Lee  to  Sharpsburg  ;  fought  him  there  ;  refitted  his  army  ; 
recrossed  the  Potomac,  and  was  rapidly  advancing  toward  War- 
renton,  where  the  fatal  fiat  from  Washington  was  to  meet  him, 
u  Off  with  his  head  !  So  much  for  Buckingham." 

But  in  these  last  days  of  October  the  wind  had  not  yet  wafted 
to  him  the  decree  of  the  civilians.  He  was  pressing  on  in 
admirable  order,  and  Lee  had  promptly  broken  up  his  camps 
upon  the  Opequon  to  cross  the  Blue  Ridge  at  Chester's  Gap,  and 
interpose  himself  between  McClellan  and  the  Rapidan. 


286  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

The  infantry  moved ;  the  cavalry  followed,  or  rather  marched 
to  guard  the  flank. 

Stuart  crossed  the  Shenandoah  at  Castleman's ;  the  column 
moved  through  Snicker's  Gap  ;  then  from  the  eastern  slopes  of 
the  Blue  Eidge  were  seen  the  long  trains  of  McClellan  in  the 
distance,  winding  toward  Middleburg  and  Aldie. 

In  front  of  these  trains  we  knew  very  well  that  we  would  find 
the  Federal  cavalry  under  that  able  soldier,  General  Bayard,  if 
he  did  not  find  us.  For  we  had  trains  also,  and  it  was  more 
than  probable  that  Bayard  would  strike  at  them  through  the 
passes  of  the  Eidge.  To  prevent  him  from  so  doing  it  seemed 
most  advisable  to  carry  the  war  into  Africa  by  a  blow  at  him, 
and  Stuart  moved  on  without  pausing  toward  Bloomfield.  This 
village  was  passed  ;  we  reached  the  little  hamlet  of  Union,  where 
the  people  told  us,  with  what  truth  I  know  not,  that  a  party  of 
the  enemy  had  just  ridden  through,  firing  right  and  left  upon 
citizens  and  children ;  then  pushing  on,  in  the  splendid  autumn 
sunshine,  the  brigade — Fitz  Lee's,  commanded  by  the  gallant 
Wickham — reached  the  vicinity  of  Mountsville. 

Stuart  was  riding  gaily  at  the  head  of  his  horsemen,  when 
Wickham  galloped  up  from  the  advance  guard,  and  announced 
that  a  heavy  picket  force  was  camped  at  Mountsville,  visible 
through  the  lofty  trees  upon  its  hill. 

"  Charge  it !  "  was  the  General's  reply  ;  and  pushing  on,  he 
was  there  almost  as  soon  as  the  advance  guard. 

They  dashed  upon  the  camp,  or  bivouac  rather,  with  shouts ; 
bang !  bang !  bang !  from  the  carbines  told  that  the  blue  and 
gray  people  had  come  into  collision  :  and  then  the  cheers  of  the 
Southerners  indicated  that  they  were  driving  in  the  picket  force 
upon  the  main  body. 

In  a  moment  we  had  reached  the  spot,  and  in  a  field  were  the 
hastily  abandoned  accoutrements  of  the  Federal  cavalry.  Saddles, 
blankets,  oil-cloths,  carbines,  sabres,  and  coats  were  scatter 
ed  everywhere.  Upon  the  ground,  a  bright  red  object  glitter 
ed  in  the  sunshine — it  was  the  flag,  or  guidon  of  the  enemy, 
abandoned  like  the  rest.  The  Federal  picket  force,  consisting 
of  the  First  Ehode  Island  Cavalry,  between  seventy -five  and  one 


A  DASH   AT  ALDIE.  287 

hundred  in  number,  had  disappeared  as  a  handful  of  dry  leaves 
disappear,  swept  away  by  the  wind. 

The  Southerners  pursued  with  shouts  and  carbine  shots — but 
officers  and  men,  bending  from  the  saddle,  caught  upon  the  points 
of  their  sabres,  as  they  passed  at  full  speed,  those  precious 
'  quartermaster  stores."  blankets,  oil-cloths,  so  scarce  in  the 
poverty-stricken  Confederacy.  The  present  writer  was  almost 
destitute  on  the  last  day  of  October — on  the  first  day  of  November 
he  was  rich.  His  cavalier  outfit  had  been  reinforced  by  an 
excellent  regulation  blanket,  heavy  and  double :  and  a  superb 
india-rubber  poncho,  on  which  was  inscribed  the  name  "  Lougee." 
If  the  original  owner  of  that  fine  military  cloak  survives,  I  beg 
to  express  my  hope  that  he  did  not  suffer,  in  the  winter  nights 
of  1862,  for  want  of  it. 

The  Federal  camp  had  vanished,  as  I  have  said,  as  though 
carried  away  by  the  wind.  The  carbine  shots  were  heard  re 
ceding  still  toward  Aldie — prisoners  began  to  come  back  toward 
the  rear.  The  name  of  another  member  of  the  First  Ehode  Island 
I  can  give.  A  young  attache  of  General  Stuart's  staff  had  cap 
tured  a  stout  animal,  and  while  leading  him,  was  suddenly  saluted 
by  the  words,  "  There  is  Brown's  horse !  "  from  a  Federal  prisoner 
passing.  Brown's  horse  travelled  afterwards  extensively,  and 
visited  the  low  country  of  North  Carolina.  Most  erratic  of  lives 
for  men  and  animals  is  the  military  life.  You  know  whence  you 
come,  not  at  all  whither  you  go ! 

These  trifles  have  diverted  me  from  the  main  subject  of  the 
present  sketch.  I  approach  that  subject  with  reluctance,  for  the 
picture  to  be  drawn  is  a  sad  one.  It  is  nothing  to  record  the 
gay  or  comic  incidents  of  other  times — to  let  the  pen  glide, 
directed  by  the  memory,  when  the  lips  are  smiling  and  the  heart 
is  gay.  To  record  the  sad  events,  however,  the  blood,  the  tears — 
believe  me,  that  is  different. 

I  was  pushing  on,  when  a  groan  from  the  roadside  drew  my 
eyes  in  that  direction.  I  looked  and  saw  a  man  lying  on  his  back, 
writhing  to  and  fro,  upon  the  grass.  Some  cavalrymen  had 
stopped,  and  were  looking  at  him  curiously. 

"Who  is  that?"  I  asked. 


288  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

"The  Yankee  captain,  sir,"  replied  one  of  the  men. 

"  The  Captain  commanding  the  picket  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  when  his  men  ran,  he  mounted  his  horse  to  keep 
from  being  captured.  The  horse  was  unbridled — the  Captain 
could  not  guide  him  with  the  halter,  and  he  ran  away.  Then 
one  of  our  men  rode  up  close  and  shot  him — the  horse  jumped 
the  fence  and  threw  him — he  looks  like  he  was  dying." 

"  Poor  fellow !  but  I  suppose  he  is  only  wounded.  Look 
after  him." 

And  I  went  on  to  catch  up  with  General  Stuart,  who  had 
ridden  on  in  advance. 

Two  hundred  yards  from  the  spot  I  found  him  sitting  on 
his  horse  in  the  road  and  waiting  for  his  column.  % 

"  General,"  I  said,  "  do  you  know  that  the  officer  commanding 
the  picket  was  shot  ?  " 

"  No  ;  where  is  he  ?  " 

"He  is  lying  yonder  in  the  corner  of  the  fence,  badly 
wounded." 

Stuart  looked  in  the  direction  of  the  wounded  man. 

"  This  ought  to  be  attended  to,"  he  said.  "  I  do  not  like  to 
leave  him  there,  but  I  must  go  on.  I  wish  you  would  see  to  this — • 
Dr.  Mount  is  at  Mountsville,  tell  him  to  have  the  officer  carried 
there,  and  to  look  to  his  wound.  But  first  take  his  parole.  He 
is  a  prisoner." 

The  General  then  rode  on,  and  I  hastened  back  to  the  suffering 
officer. 

The  spectacle  was  a  piteous  one.  He  was  lying  in  a  corner 
of  the  fence,  writhing  and  groaning.  From  his  lips  came  inces 
santly  those  pathetic  words  which  the  suffering  utter  more  than 
all  others—"  Oh !  my  God  !  my  God  !  " 

I  dismounted,  and  bent  over  him. 

"  Are  you  in  very  great  pain  ?  " 

"Oh!  my  God!" 

"  Where  are  you  wounded  ?  " 

"Oh!  my  God!  my  God  !  " 

I  could  see  no  blood,  and  yet  this  human  being  was  evidently 
stretched  upon  the  rack.  What  he  required  was  a  physician ; 


A  DASH   AT  ALDIE.  289 

and  mounting  my  horse  I  galloped  to  Mountsville,  only  a  few 
hundred  yards  distant,  where  I  saw  and  gave  the  General's  mes 
sage  to  Dr.  Mount.  The  doctor  promptly  answered  that  he  would 
send  immediately  for  the  sufferer,  and  dress  his  wound ;  and  hav 
ing  received  this  assurance,  I  returned  to  the  spot  where  he  lay. 

"Do  you  suffer  as  much  now?  "  I  asked. 

A  groan  was  the  reply. 

"  You  will  be  taken  care  of — a  surgeon  is  coming." 

But  I  could  not  attract  his  attention.  Then  all  at  once  I 
remembered  the  general's  order.  I  was  to  parole  this  man — 
that  order  must  be  obeyed,  unless  I  thought  him  dying  or  sure 
to  die.  It  was  my  duty  as  a  soldier  to  observe  the  directions 
which  I  had  received. 

I  looked  at  the  sufferer ;  could  see  no  blood  -f  thought  "  this 
•wound  may  be  only  very  painful;"  and,  taking  from  my  mili 
tary  satchel  a  scrap  of  paper,  wrote  with  a  pencil  the  parole 
which  I  have  copied  in  the  beginning  of  this  paper. 

Then  kneeling  down  beside  the  officer,  I  placed  the  pencil  in 
his  hand,  read  the  parole,  and  he  attached  his  name  to  it,  without 
objection — exhibiting,  as  he  did  so,  many  evidences  of  suffering, 
but  none  of  approaching  death. 

Fifteen  minutes  afterwards  a  vehicle  was  brought,  and  Captain 
Gove,  of  the  First  Rhode  Island  Cavalry,  was  conveyed,  in  charge 
of  a  surgeon,  to  Mountsville. 

III. 

Here  the  writer  had  intended  to  terminate  his  sketch — attach 
ing  to  it  the  title,  "  Paroled  in  Articulo  Mortis."  But  in  so 
determining  he  did  not  take  into  consideration  the  curious 
faculty  of  memory— that  faculty  which  slumbers,  and  seems 
dead  often,  but  none  the  less  lives ;  which,  once  set  in  motion, 
travels  far.  Two  or  three  recollections  of  that  period, 
and  allied  to  the  subject,  have  come  back — among  them  the 
attack  on  Aldie ;  the  ovation  which  awaited  us  at  Middle- 
burg  ;  and  the  curious  manner  in  which  the  heavy  silver 
watch  and  chain  of  the  wounded  officer — taken  from  his 

19 


290  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

body  by  an  officer  of  the  staff — was  afterwards  restored  to  his 
family. 

A  word  of  each  incident  in  its  turn. 

The  force  at  Mountsville  was  one  of  the  a?itennce  of  that  dan 
gerous  foe,  General  Bayard.  Touched,  it  recoiled — but  behind 
it  were  the  veritable  claws.  At  Aldie,  Bayard  was  posted  with 
artillery,  and  a  cavalry  force  which  we  estimated  from  the 
accounts  of  prisoners— some  seventy  in  number — at  about  5000. 

Stuart  had  only  the  brigade  of  Fitz  Lee,  about  1000  men,  but 
once  in  motion  the  "Flower  of  Cavaliers"  always  followed  the 
Scriptural  precept  to  forget  those  things  which  were  behind,  and 
press  on  to  those  which  were  before.  His  column,  therefore, 
moved  on  steadily ;  and  before  I  had  finished  paroling  Captain 
Gove,  was  nearly  out  of  sight. 

Nothing  now  detained  me,  and  pushing  on  at  full  gallop,  I, 
came  up  with  Stuart  on  the  high  hill  west  of  Aldie.  All  along 
the  road  were  dead  and  wounded  men — one  of  the  former  was 
lying  in  a  pool  of  blood  pierced  through  from  breast  to  back 
by  a  sabre  thrust. 

Fifty  yards  further,  the  long  column  was  stationary  on  the  road 
which  wound  up  the  hill — stationary,  but  agitated,  restless.  From 
the  front  came  carbine  shots. 

On  the  summit  of  the  hill,  relieved  against  the  sky,  was  the 
form  of  Stuart,  with  floating  plume,  drawn  sword,  and  animated 
gesture.  His  horse  was  rearing ;  his  sabre,  as  he  whirled  it 
around  his  head,  flashed  like  lightning  in  the  October  sun.  No' 
officer  was  with  him — he  had  distanced  all.  I  never  saw  him 
more  impatient. 

"  Go  to  the  head  of  the  column,  and  make  it  charge !  "  was  his 
order — an  order  so  unlike  this  preux  chevalier,  who  generally 
took  the  front  himself,  that  I  would  not  record  it,  did  I  not  recall 
the  exact  words — "  tell  them  to  charge  right  in  !  " 

A  storm  of  bullets  hissed  around  the  speaker ;  his  horse  was 
dancing  the  polka  on  his  hind  feet. 

Before  I  had  reached  the  head  of  the  column,  going  at  a  run, 
Stuart  was  there  too.  Then  the  cause  of  the  halt  was  seen.  The 
enemy  had  dismounted  a  double  line  of  marksmen — if  they  were 


A  DASH   AT  ALDIE.  291 

not  infantry — and  those  adventurous  cavaliers  who  had  pushed 
on  into  the  hornets'  hive,  Aldie,  had  fallen  back,  pursued  by 
balls.  At  the  same  moment  the  Federal  artillery  was  seen  com 
ing  into  position  at  a  rapid  gallop  on  the  opposite  hill. 

Stuart  threw  one  fiery  glance  in  that  direction,  flashed  a 
second  towards  the  front,  and  said  briefly : 

"  Tell  Wickham  to  form  on  the  hill,  and  bring  up  Pelham  at  a 
gallop ! " 

The  order  was  delivered  to  Wickham ;  then  I  went  to  hurry 
Pelham.  I  found  him  advancing,  alone,  at  a  walk,  riding  a 
huge  artillery  horse,  his  knees  drawn  up  by  the  short  stirrups. 

"  The  pieces  are  coming  at  a  gallop,"  was  his  smiling  answer  ; 
"  anything  going  on  ?  " 

"  The  General  is  going  to  fall  back  to  the  hill,  and  needs  the 
guns." 

11  All  right;  they'll  be  there." 

And  soon  the  roll  of  wheels,  and  the  heavy  beat  of  artillery 
horses'  hoofs,  was  heard.  A  cloud  of  dust  rose  behind.  The 
pieces  approached  at  a  gallop,  and  ascending  the  hill,  came 
into  position,  flanked  by  cavalry.  Then  they  opened,  and  at 
the  third  shot  the  Federal  artillery  changed  its  position.  I 
always  thought  they  must  have  known  when  Pelham  was 
opposed  to  them.  In  the  Southern  army  there  was  no  greater 
artillerist  than  this  boy. 

Stuart  was  now  upon  the  hill,  where  he  had  drawn  up  his  line 
to  meet  Bayard's  charge.  He  had  scarcely  made  his  disposi 
tions,  however,  when  a  mounted  man  approached  him  at  full 
gallop,  from  the  side  of  Mountsville,  that  is  to  say,  his  rear,  and 
delivered  a  message. 

The  face  of  the  General  flushed,  and  he  threw  a  rapid  glance 
in  that  direction.  He  had  received  intelligence  that  a  heavy 
force  of  the  enemy  was  closing  in  upon  his  rear  from  the  side  of 
Leesburgh.  With  Bayard's  5000  in  front,  and  that  column  in 
rear,  the  little  brigade  seemed  to  be  caught  in  a  veritable  hor 
nets'  nest. 

But  to  extricate  himself  without  difficulty  from  every  species 
of  "  tight  place,"  seemed  to  be  a  peculiar  faculty  of  Stuart's. 


292  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

He  gave  an  order  to  Wickham  ;  the  cavalry  moved  slowly  back, 
with  the  enemy's  shell  bursting  above  them.  Pelham  limbered 
up  coolly;  the  column  headed  to  the  left;  a  friendly  by-road, 
grassy,  skirted  with  trees  and  unperceived  by  the  enemy,  pre 
sented  itself;  and  in  fifteen  minutes  the  whole  Southern  force  was 
out  of  Bayard's  clutch,  moving  steadily  across  to  Middleburg. 
Stuart  was  out  of  the  trap. 

At  Middleburg,  that  charming  little  town,  dropped  amid  the 
smiling  fields  of  Loudoun,  the  General  and  his  followers  were 
received  in  a  manner  which  I  wish  I  could  describe  ;  but  it  was 
indescribable.  The  whole  hamlet  seemed  to  have  been  attacked 
by  a  sudden  fit  of  joyous  insanity.  Men,  women,  and  children, 
ran  from  the  houses,  shouting,  laughing,  cheering — crazy,  jt 
appeared,  for  joy,  at  sight  of  the  gray  horsemen.  Six  hours 
before  they  were  in  the  "enemy's  country,"  and  the  streets  had 
been  traversed  by  long  columns  of  blue  cavalry.  Now  the 
same  streets  resounded  to  the  hoofstrokes  of  Stuart's  men,  clad 
in  no  precise  uniform,  it  might  be — real  nondescripts — but  cer 
tainly  there  was  not  a  single  "blue-bird"  among  them,  unless 
he  was  a  prisoner. 

It  was  this  spectacle  of  gray  nondescripts  which  aroused  the 
general  enthusiasm.  As  Stuart  advanced,  superb  and  smiling, 
with  his  brilliant  blue  eyes,  his  ebon  plume,  his  crimson  scarf, 
and  his  rattling  sabre,  in  front  of  his  men,  the  town,  as  I  have 
said,  grew  wild.  His  hand  was  grasped  by  twenty  persons ; 
bright  eyes  greeted  him;  beautiful  lips  saluted  him.  Believe 
me,  reader,  it  was  something  to  be  a  soldier  of  the  C.  S.  A., 
when  the  name  of  that  soldier  was  Stuart,  Jackson,  Gordon,  or 
Kodes.  Fair  hands  covered  them  with  flowers,  cut  off  their 
coat-buttons,  and  caressed  the  necks  of  the  horses  which  they 
rode.  Better  still  than  that,  pure  hearts  offered  prayers  for 
them ;  when  they  fell,  the  brightest  eyes  were  wet  with  tears. 

Most  striking  of  all  scenes  of  that  pageant  of  rejoicing  at 
Middleburg,  was  the  ovation  in  front  of  a  school  of  young  girls. 
The  house  had  poured  out,  as  from  a  cornucopia,  a  great  crowd 
of  damsels,  resembling,  in  their  variegated  dresses,  a  veritable 
collection  of  roses,  tulips,  and  carnations.  They  were  ready 


A   DASH  AT  ALDIE.  293 

there,  these  living  flowers,  to  greet  their  favourite,  when  he  ap 
peared  ;  and  no  sooner  did  his  column  come  in  sight  in  the  sub 
urbs  than  a  wind  seemed  to  agitate  the  roses,  tulips,  and  carna 
tions  ;  a  murmur  rose — "  He  is  coming !  " 

Then  at  sight  of  the  floating  plume  the  tempest  of  welcome 
culminated.  Beautiful  eyes  flashed,  fair  cheeks  flushed,  red  lips 
were  wreathed  with  smiles ;  on  every  side  were  heard  from  the 
young  maidens,  fairly  dancing  for  joy,  exclamations  of  rapturous 
delight. 

As  he  came  opposite  the  spot  Stuart  halted,  and  taking  his 
hat  off,  saluted  profoundly.  But  that  was  not  enough.  They 
had  not  assembled  there  to  receive  a  mere  bow.  In  an  instant 
his  hand  was  seized  ;  he  was  submerged  in  the  wave  of  flowers  ; 
for  once,  the  cavalier  who  had  often  said  to  me,  "  I  never  mean 
to  surrender,"  was  fairly  captured.  Nor  did  he  seem  to  regret 
it.  He  returned  good  for  evil,  and  appeared  to  be  actuated  by 
the  precept  which  commands  us  to  love  our  enemies.  Those 
enemies  pressed  around  him ;  overwhelmed  him  with  their 
thanks ;  grasped  his  hands,  and  allowed  the  brave  soldier's  lip, 
as  he  bent  from  the  saddle,  to  touch  the  fresh  roses  of  their 
cheeks. 

Do  you  blame  them  ?  I  do  not.  Do  you  say  that  they  were 
too  " forward?"  Believe  me,  your  judgment  is  harsh.  This 
soldier  was  a  pure-hearted  Christian  gentleman,  who  had  fought 
for  those  children,  and  meant  to  die  for  them  soon.  Was  it 
wrong  to  greet  him  thus,  as  he  passed,  amid  the  storm?  and  does 
any  young  lady,  who  kissed  him,  regret  it  ?  Do  not  be  afraid, 
mademoiselle,  should  you  read  this  page.  The  lip  which 
touched  your  cheek  that  day  never  trembled  when  its  owner 
was  fighting,  or  going  to  fall,  for  you.  That  hand  which  you 
pressed  was  a  brave  and  honest  Virginian's.  That  heart  which 
your  greeting  made  beat  faster  and  more  proudly,  was  one 
which  never  shrank  before  the  sternest  tests  of  manhood  ;  for  it 
beat  in  the  breast  of  the  greatest  and  noblest  of  our  Southern 
cavaliers ! 

When  Stuart  lay  down  in  his  bivouac  that  night,  wrapping 
his  red  blanket  around  him  by  the  glimmering  camp  fire,  I 


294  WEARING    OF  THE    GRAY. 

think  he  must  have  fallen  asleep  with  a  smile  on  his  lips,  and 
that  the  hand  of  night  led  him  to  the  land  of  Pleasant  Dreams ! 


IT. 

A  few  words  will  end  the  present  sketch.  They  will  refer  to 
the  manner  in  which  the  watch  and  chain  of  Captain  Gove  were 
returned. 

In  the  year  1863,  the  cavalry  headquarters  were  at  "  Camp 
Pelham,"  near  Culpeper  Court-house. 

The  selection  of  that  title  for  his  camp  by  Stuart,  will  indicate 
little  to  the  world  at  large.  To  those  familiar  with  his  peculiari 
ties  it  will  be  different.  Stuart  named  his  various  headquarters 
after  some  friend  recently  dead.  "  Camp  Pelham  "  indicated 
that  this  young  immortal  had  finished  his  career. 

Pelham,  in  fact,  was  dead.  At  Manassas,  Williamsburg,  Cold 
Harbour,  Groveton,  Sharpsburg,  Fredericksburg,  and  a  hundred 
other  battles,  he  had  opposed  his  breast  to  the  storm,  but  no  bul 
let  had  ever  struck  him.  In  the  hard  and  bitter  struggle  of 
Kelly's  Ford,  with  Averill,  in  March,  1863,  he  had  fallen.  The 
whole  South  mourned  him — dead  thus  at  twenty -four.  Stuart 
wept  for  him,  and  named  his  new  quarters  "  Camp  Pelham." 

To-day,  in  this  autumn  of  1866,  the  landscape  must  be  dreary 
there ;  the  red  flag  floats  no  more,  and  Pelham  lives  only  in 
memory.  But  that  is  enough.  There  are  some  human  beings 
who,  once  encountered,  "  dare  you  to  forget." 

To  terminate  my  sketch.  In  those  days  of  1863,  I  had  long 
forgotten  Mountsville,  the  little  fight  there,  and  Captain  Gove — 
for  the  months  of  war  are  long — when  one  evening  at  "  Camp 
Pelham  "  I  saw  approach  a  small  party  of  cavalrymen  escorting 
a  Federal  prisoner.  This  was  so  common  an  occurrence  that  it 
attracted  no  attention.  The  loungers  simply  turned  their  heads ; 
the  men  dismounted ;  the  orderly  announced  the  fact  to  tho 
General,  and  the  Federal  prisoner,  who  was  an  officer,  disap 
peared  behind  the  flap  of  General  Stuart's  tent. 

Half  an  hour   afterwards   the   General   came   out  with   the 


A   DASH   AT  ALDIE.  295 

prisoner,  a  short,  thick-set  man,  and  approaching  the  fire  in  front 
of  my  tent,  introduced  him  to  me  as  Captain  Stone,  of  the 
United  States  Army.  Then,  drawing  me  aside,  the  General 
said : 

"  I  wish  you  would  make  Captain  Stone's  time  pass  as  agreea 
bly  as  possible.  We  ought  to  treat  him  well.  In  fording  a 
stream  near  Warren  ton,  after  his  capture,  he  saved  the  life  of 
Colonel  Payne.  The  Colonel  was  wearing  a  heavy  overcoat 
with  a  long  cape,  when  his  horse  stumbled  in  the  water,  threw 
him,  and  as  the  heavy  cape  confined  his  arms,  he  would  have 
been  drowned  but  for  the  prisoner,  who  jumped  into  the  water 
and  saved  him.  You  see  we  ought  to  treat  him  like  a  friend, 
rather  than  as  a  prisoner,"  added  the  General  smiling,  "  and  I 
wish  you  would  give  him  a  seat  and  make  yourself  agreeable 
generally ! " 

I  saluted,  returned  the  General's  laugh,  and  made  a  profound 
bow  to  Captain  Stone  as  I  offered  him  the  only  camp  stool  which 
I  possessed.  Then  we  began  to  talk  in  a  manner  perfectly 
friendly. 

This  conversation  lasted  for  half  an  hour.  Then  General 
Stuart,  who  had  finished  his  evening's  task  at  his  desk,  approach 
ed,  in  company  with  several  members  of  the  staff,  and  everybody 
began  to  converse.  The  comments  of  Captain  Stone  upon  his 
capture  and  his  captors,  were  entirety  amicable.  He  had  been 
"  taken  in  charge "  with  perfect  politeness ;  and  his  personal 
effects  had  been  religiously  respected.  In  proof  of  this  statement 
he  drew  out  his  watch,  and  commended  it  as  a  timepiece  of  most 
admirable  performance. 

ult  is  not  better  than  mine,  I  think,  Captain,"  said  a  member 
of  the  staff,  with  a  smile ;  and  he  drew  from  his  breast  pocket  a 
large  silver  watch  of  the  most  approved  pattern. 

"  That  seems  to  be  an  excellent  timepiece,"  was  the  response 
of  the  Federal  prisoner.  "  Where  did  you  purchase  it  ?  " 

"  It  was  captured  ;  or  rather  I  took  it  from  a  Federal  officer 
who  was  dying,  to  preserve  it— intending  if  I  ever  had  an  oppor 
tunity  to  return  it  to  some  member  of  his  family/' 

Stuart  took  the  watch  and  looked  at  it. 


296  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

u  I  remember  this  watch,"  he  said  ;  "  it  belonged  to  Captain 
Gove,  who  was  killed  in  the  skirmish  at  Mounts ville." 

"  Captain  Gove,  of  the  First  Ehode  Island,  was  it,  General  ?  * 
asked  the  prisoner. 

"  The  same,  Captain." 

"  I  know  his  people  very  well." 

"  Then,"  returned  Stuart,  handing  him  the  watch,  "  you  will 
be  able  to  return  this  to  his  family." 

So  when  Captain  Stone  left  Camp  Pelham  on  the  next  morn 
ing,  he  took  away  with  him  the  watch,  which  the  family  of  the 
unfortunate  Captain  Gove  no  doubt  preserve  as  a  memorial  of 
him. 

This  little  incident  has  occupied  an  amount  of  space  dispro- 
portioned,  it  may  be  thought,  to  its  importance.  But  memory 
will  have  no  master.  The  sight  of  the  paper  which  that  dying 
man  at  Mountsville  affixed  his  name  to,  aroused  all  these  recol 
lections.  Unwritten,  they  haunted  the  writer's  mind  ;  recorded, 
they  are  banished.  The  past  takes  them.  There  they  sleep 
again,  with  a  thousand  others,  gay  or  sorrowful,  brilliant  or 
lugubrious,  for  of  this  changeful  warp  and  woof  is  war. 


XI. 

JACKSON'S  DEATH-WOUND. 


I. 

THERE  is  an  event  of  the  late  war,  the  details  of  which  are 
known  only  to  a  few  persons ;  and  yet  it  is  no  exaggeration  to 
say  that  many  thousands  would  feel  an  interest  in  the  particu 
lars.  I  mean  the  death  of  Jackson.  The  minute  circumstances 
attending  it  have  never  been  published,  and  they  are  here 
recorded  as  matter  of  historical  as  well  as  personal  interest. 

A  few  words  will  describe  the  situation  of  affairs  when  this 
tragic  scene  took  place.  The  spring  of  1862  saw  a  large  Federal 
army  assembled  on  the  north  bank  of  the  Rappahannock,  and  on 
the  first  of  May,  General  Hooker,  its  commander,  had  crossed, 
and  firmly  established  himself  at  Chancellorsville.  General 
Lee's  forces  were  opposite  Fredericksburg  chiefly,  a  small  body 
of  infantry  only  watching  the  upper  fords.  This  latter  was 
compelled  to  fall  back  before  General  Hooker's  army  of  about 
one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  men,  and  Lee  hastened  by  forced 
marches  from  Fredericksburg  toward  Chancellorsville,  with  a 
force  of  about  thirty  thousand  men — Longstreet  being  absent  at 
Suffolk — to  check  the  farther  advance  of  the  enemy.  This  was 
on  May  1st,  and  the  Confederate  advance  force  under  Jackson, 
on  the  same  evening,  attacked  General  Hooker's  intrenchments 
facing  toward  Fredericksburg.  They  were  found  impregnable, 
the  dense  thickets  having  been  converted  into  abattis,  and  every 
avenue  of  approach  defended  with  artillery.  General  Lee  there 
fore  directed  the  assault  to  cease,  and  consulted  with  his  corps 


298  WEARING   OF  THE  GRAY. 

commanders  as  to  further  operations.  Jackson  suggested  a  rapid 
movement  around  the  Federal  front,  and  a  determined  attack 
upon  the  right  flank  of  General  Hooker,  west  of  Chancellors  - 
ville.  The  ground  on  his  left  and  in  his  front  gave  such  enor 
mous  advantages  to  the  Federal  troops  that  an  assault  there  was 
impossible,  'and  the  result  of  the  consultation  was  the  adoption 
of  Jackson's  suggestion  to  attack  the  enemy's  right.  Every 
preparation  was  made  that  night,  and  on  the  morning  of  May 
second,  Jackson  set  out  with  Hill's,  Rodes's,  and  Colston's  divi 
sions,  in  all  about  twenty-two  thousand  men,  to  accomplish  his 
undertaking. 

Chancellorsville  was  a  single  brick  house  of  large  dimensions, 
situated  on  the  plank-road  from  Fredericksburg  to  Orange,  and 
all  around  it  were  the  thickets  of  the  country  known  as  the 
Wilderness.  In  this  tangled  undergrowth  the  Federal  works 
had  been  thrown  up,  and  such  was  the  denseness  of  the  woods 
that  a  column  moving  a  mile  or  two  to  the  south  was  not  apt  to 
be  seen.  Jackson  calculated  upon  this,  but  fortune  seemed 
against  him.  At  the  Catherine  Furnace,  a  mile  or  two  from  the 
Federal  line,  his  inarch  was  discovered,  and  a  hot  attack  was 
made  on  his  rear-guard  as  he  moved  past.  All  seemed  now  dis 
covered,  but,  strange  to  say,  such  was  not  the  fact.  The  Fede 
ral  officers  saw  him  plainly,  but  the  winding  road  which  he  pur 
sued  chanced  here  to  bend  toward  the  south,  and  it  was  after 
ward  discovered  that  General  Hooker  supposed  him  to  be  in  full 
retreat  upon  Richmond.  Such  at  least  was  the  statement  of  Fede 
ral  officers.  Jackson  repulsed  the  attack  upon  his  rear,  con 
tinued  his  march,  and  striking  into  what  is  called  the  Brock 
Road,  turned  the  head  of  his  column  northward,  and  rapidly 
advanced  around  General  Hooker's  right  flank.  A  cavalry  force 
under  General  Stuart  had  moved  in  front  and  on  the  flanks  of 
the  column,  driving  off  scouting  parties  and  other  too  inquisi 
tive  wayfarers  ;  and  on  reaching  the  junction  of  the  Orange  and 
Germanna  roads  a  heavy  Federal  picket  was  forced  to  retire. 
General  Fitz  Lee  then  informed  Jackson  that  from  a  hill  near  at 
hand  he  could  obtain  a  view  of  the  Federal  works,  and  proceed 
ing  thither,  Jackson  reconnoitred.  This  reconnoissance  showed 


JACKSON'S  DEATH-WOUND.  299 

him  that  he  was  not  far  enough  to  the  left,  and  he  said  briefly  to 
an  aide,  "  Tell  my  column  to  cross  that  road,"  pointing  to  the 
plank-road.  His  object  was  to  reach  the  "  old  turnpike,"  which 
ran  straight  down  into  the  Federal  right  flank.  It  was  reached 
at  about  five  in  the  evening,  and  without  a  moment's  delay 
Jackson  formed  his  line  of  battle  for  an  attack.  Kodes's  division 
moved  in  front,  supported  at  an  interval  of  two  hundred  yards 
by  Colston's,  and  behind  these  A.  P,  Hill's  division  marched  in 
column  like  the  artillery,  on  account  of  the  almost  impenetrable 
character  of  the  thickets  on  each  side  of  the  road. 

Jackson's  assault  was  sudden  and  terrible.  It  struck  the 
Eleventh  corps,  commanded  on  this  occasion  by  General  How 
ard,  and,  completely  surprised,  they  retreated  in  confusion  upon 
the  heavy  works  around  Chancellorsville.  Eodes  and  Colston 
followed  them,  took  possession  of  the  breastworks  across  the 
road,  and  a  little  after  eight  o'clock  the  Confederate  troops  were 
within  less  than  a  mile  of  Chancellorsville,  preparing  for  a  new 
and  more  determined  attack.  Jackson's  plan  was  worthy  of  being 
the  last  military  project  conceived  by  that. resolute  and  enterpris 
ing  intellect.  He  designed  putting  his  entire  force  into  action, 
extending  his  left,  and  placing  that  wing  between  General 
Hooker  and  the  Bappahannock.  Then,  unless  the  Federal  com 
mander  could  cut  his  way  through,  his  army  would  be  captured 
or  destroyed.  Jackson  commenced  the  execution  of  this  plan 
with  vigour,  and  an  obvious  determination  to  strain  every  nerve, 
and  incur  every  hazard  to  accomplish  so  decisive  a  success. 
Eodes  and  Colston  were  directed  to  retire  a  short  distance,  and 
re-form  their  lines,  now  greatly  mingled,  and  Hill  was  ordered 
to  move  to  the  front  and  take  their  places.  On  fire  with  his 
great  design,  Jackson  then  rode  forward  in  front  of  the  troops 
toward  Chancellorsville,  and  here  and  then  the  bullet  struck  him 
which  was  to  terminate  his  career. 

The  details  which  follow  are  given  on  the  authority  of  Jack- 
-son's  staff  officers,  and  one  or  two  others  who  witnessed  all  that 
occurred.  In  relation  to  the  most  tragic  portion  of  the  scene, 
there  remained,  as  will  be  seen,  but  a  single  witness. 

Jackson  had  ridden  forward  on  the -turn pike  to  reconnoitre, 


300  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

and  ascertain,  if  possible,  in  spite  of  the  darkness  of  the  night, 
the  position  of  the  Federal  lines.  The  moon  shone,  but  it  was 
struggling  with  a  bank  of  clouds,  and  afforded  but  a  dim  light. 
From  the  gloomy  thickets  on  each  side  of  the  turnpike,  looking 
more  weird  and  sombre  in  the  half  light,  came  the  melancholy 
notes  of  the  whippoorwill.  u  I  think  there  must  have  been  ten, 
thousand,"  said  General  Stuart  afterwards.  Such  was  the  scene 
amid  which  the  events  now  about  to  be  narrated  took  place. 

Jackson  had  advanced  with  some  members  of  his  staff,  con 
siderably  beyond  the  building  known  as  "Melzi  Chancellor's," 
about  a  mile  from  Chancellorsville,  and  had  reached  a  point 
nearly  opposite  an  old  dismantled  house  in  the  woods  near  the 
road,  whose  shell-torn  roof  may  still  be  seen,  when  he  reined  in 
his  horse,  and  remaining  perfectly  quiet  and  motionless,  listened 
intently  for  any  indications  of  a  movement  in  the  Federal  lines. 
They  were  scarcely  two  hundred  yards  in  front  of  him,  and  seeing 
the  danger  to  which  he  exposed  himself  one  of  his  staff  officers 
said.  "General,  don't  you  think  this  is  the  wrong  place  for 
you?"  He  replied  quickly,  almost  impatiently,  "The  clanger  is 
all  over!  the  enemy  is  routed — go  back  and  tell  A.  P.  Hill  to 
press  right  on ! "  The  officer  obeyed,  but  had  scarcely  disap 
peared  when  a  sudden  volley  was  fired  from  the  Confederate 
infantry  in  Jackson's  rear,  and  on  the  right  of  the  road — evi 
dently  directed  upon  him  and  his  escort.  The  origin  of  this  fire 
has  never  been  discovered,  and  after  Jackson's  death  there  was 
little  disposition  to  investigate  an  occurrence  which  occasioned 
bitter  distress  to  all  who  by  any  possibility  could  have  taken 
part  in  it.  It  is  probable,  however,  that  some  movement  of  the 
Federal  skirmishers  had  provoked  the  fire ;  if  this  is  an  error, 
the  troops  fired  deliberately  upon  Jackson  and  his  party,  under 
the  impression  that  they  were  a  body  of  Federal  cavalry  recon 
noitring.  It  is  said  that  the  men  had  orders  to  open  upon  any 
object  in  front,  "  especially  upon  cavalry;"  and  the  absence  of 
pickets  or  advance  force  of  any  kind  on  the  Confederate  side 
explains  the  rest.  The  enemy  were  almost  in  contact  with  them; 
the  Federal  artillery,  fully  commanding  the  position  of  the  troops, 
was  expected  to  open  every  moment;  and  the  men  were  just  in 


o 


301 

that  excited  condition  which  induces  troops  to  fire  at  any  and 
every  object  they  see. 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  origin  of  this  volley,  it  came, 
and  many  of  the  staff  and  escort  were  shot,  and  fell  from  their 
horses.  Jackson  wheeled  to  the  left  and  galloped  into  the  woods 
to  get  out  of  range  of  the  bullets ;  but  he  had  not  gone  twenty 
steps  beyond  the  edge  of  the  turnpike,  in  the  thicket,  when  one 
of  his  brigades  drawn  up  within  thirty  yards  of  him  fired  a  vol 
ley  in  their  turn,  kneeling  on  the  right  knee,  as  the  flash  of  the 
guns  showed,  as  though  prepared  to  "guard  against  cavalry." 
By  this  fire  Jackson  was  wounded  in  three  places.  He  received 
one  ball  in  his  left  arm,  two  inches  below  the  shoulder-joint,  shat 
tering  the  bone  and  severing  the  chief  artery ;  a  second  passed 
through  the  same  arm  between  the  elbow  and  the  wrist,  making 
its  exit  through  the  palm  of  the  hand  ;  and  a  third  ball  entered 
the  palm  of  his  right  hand,  about  the  middle,  and  passing  through 
broke  two  of  the  bones.  At  the  moment  when  he  was  struck, 
he  was  holding  his  rein  in  his  left  hand,  and  his  right  was  raised 
either  in  the  singular  gesture  habitual  to  him,  at  times  of  excite 
ment,  or  to  protect  his  face  from  the  boughs  of  the  trees.  His 
left  hand  immediately  dropped  at  his  side,  and  his  horse,  no 
longer  controlled  by  the  rein,  and  frightened  at  the  firing, 
wheeled  suddenly  and  ran  from  the  fire  in  the  direction  of  the 
Federal  lines.  Jackson's -helpless  condition  now  exposed  him 
to  a  distressing  accident.  His  horse  darted  violently  between 
two  trees,  from  one  of  which  a  horizontal  bough  extended, 
at  about  the  height  of  his  head,  to  the  other ;  and  as  he  passed 
between  the  trees,  this  bough  struck  him  in  the  face,  tore  off  his 
cap,  and  threw  him  violently  back  on  his  horse.  The  blow  was 
so  violent  as  nearly  to  unseat  him,  but  it  did  not  do  so,  and 
rising  erect  again,  he  caught  the  bridle  with  the  broken  and 
bleeding  fingers  of  his  right  hand,  and  succeeded  in  turning  his 
horse  back  into  the  turnpike.  Here  Captain  Wilbourn,  of  his 
staff,  succeeded  in  catching  the  reins  and  checking  the  animal, 
who  was  almost  frantic  from  terror,  at  the  moment  when,  from 
loss  of  blood  and  exhaustion,  Jackson  was  about  to  fall  from  the 
saddle. 


802  WEARING    OF  THE  GEAT. 

The  scene  at  this  time  was  gloomy  and  depressing.  Horses 
mad  with  fright  at  the  close  firing  were  seen  running  in  every 
direction,  some  of  them  riderless,  others  defying  control ;  and 
in  the  wood  lay  many  wounded  and  dying  men.  Jackson's 
whole  party,  except  Captain  Wilbourn  and  a  member  of  the 
signal  corps,  had  been  killed,  wounded,  or  dispersed.  The  man 
riding  just  behind  Jackson  had  had  his  horse  killed ;  a  courier 
near  was  wounded  and  his  horse  ran  into  the  Federal  lines; 
Lieutenant  Morrison,  aide-de-camp,  threw  himself  from  the  saddle, 
and  his  horse  fell  dead  a  moment  afterwards;  Captain  Howard 
was  wounded  and  carried  by  his  horse  into  the  Federal  camps; 
Captain  Leigh  had  his  horse  shot  under  him ;  Captain  Forbes 
was  killed ;  and  Captain  Boswell,  Jackson's  chief  engineer,  was 
shot  through  the  heart,  and  his  dead  body  carried  by  his  fright 
ened  horse  into  the  lines  of  the  enemy  near  at  hand. 


n. 

Such  was  the  fatal  result  of  this  causeless  fire.  It  had  ceased 
as  suddenly  as  it  began,  and  the  position  in  the  road  which 
Jackson  now  occupied  was  the  same  from  which  he  had  been 
driven.  Captain  Wilbourn,  who  with  Mr.  Wynn,  of  the  signal 
corps,  was  all  that  was  left  of  the  party,  notices  a  singular  cir 
cumstance  which  attracted  his  attention  at  this  moment.  The 
turnpike  was  utterly  deserted  with  the  exception  of  himself,  hip 
companion,  and  Jackson ;  but  in  the  skirting  of  thicket  on  the 
left  he  observed  some  one  sitting  on  his  horse,  by  the  side  of  the 
road,  and  coolly  looking  on,  motionless  and  silent.  The  un 
known  individual  was  clad  in  a  dark  dress  which  strongly  re 
sembled  the  Federal  uniform :  but  it  seemed  impossible  that  one 
of  the  enemy  could  have  penetrated  to  that  spot  without  being 
discovered,  and  what  followed  seemed  to  prove  that  he  belonged 
to  the  Confederates.  Captain  Wilbourn  directed  him  to  "ride 
up  there  and  see  what  troops  those  were  "—the  men  who  had 
fired  on  Jackson— when  the  stranger  slowly  rode  in  the  direction 


JACKSON'S  DEATH-WOUND.  303 

pointed  out,  but  never  returned.  Who  this  silent  personage 
was,  is  left  to  conjecture. 

Captain  Wilbourn,  who  was  standing  by  Jackson,  now  said, 
"They  certainly  must  be  our  troops,"  to  which  the  General  as 
sented  with  a  nod  of  the  head,  but  said  nothing.  He  was  look 
ing  up  the  road  toward  his  lines  with  apparent  astonishment, 
and  continued  for  some  time  to  look  in  that  direction  as  if  unable 
to  realize  that  he  could  have  been  fired  upon  and  wounded  by 
his  own  men.  His  wound  was  bleeding  profusely,  the  blood 
streaming  down  so  as  to  fill  his  gauntlets,  and  it  was  necessary 
to  secure  assistance  promptly.  Captain  Wilbourn  asked  him  if 
he  was  much  injured,  and  urged  him  to  make  an  effort  to  move 
his  fingers,  as  his  ability  to  do  this  would  prove  that  his  arm  was 
not  broken.  He  endeavoured  to  do  so,  looking  down  at  his 
hand  during  the  attempt,  but  speedily  gave  it  up,  announcing 
that  his  arm  was  broken.  An  effort  which  his  companion  made 
to  straighten  it  caused  him  great  pain,  and  murmuring,  "You 
had  better  take  me  down,"  he  leaned  forward  and  fell  into  Cap 
tain  Wilbourn's  arms.  He  was  so  much  exhausted  by  loss  of 
blood  that  he  was  unable  to  take  his  feet  out  of  the  stirrups,  and 
this  was  done  by  Mr.  Wynn.  He  was  then  carried  to  the  side 
of  the  road  and  laid  under  a  small  tree,  where  Captain  Wilbourn 
supported  his  head  while  his  companion  went  for  a  surgeon  and 
ambulance  to  carry  him  to  the  rear,  receiving  strict  instructions, 
however,  not  to  mention  the  occurrence  to  any  one  but  Dr. 
McGuire,  or  other  surgeon.  Captain  Wilbourn  then  made  an 
examination  of  the  General's  wounds.  Eemoving  his  field- 
glasses  and  haversack,  which  latter  contained  some  paper  and 
envelopes  for  dispatches,  and  two  religious  tracts,  he  put  these 
on  his  own  person  for  safety,  and  with  a  small  pen-knife  pro 
ceeded  to  cut  away  the  sleeves  of  the  india-rubber  overall,  dress- 
coat,  and  two  shirts,  from  the  bleeding  arm. 

While  this  duty  was  being  performed,  General  Hill  rode  up 
with  his  staff,  and  dismounting  beside  the  general  expressed  his 
great  regret  at  the  accident.  To  the  question  whether  his  wound 
was  painful,  Jackson  replied,  "Very  painful,"  and  added  that 
"his  arm  was  broken."  General  Hill  pulled  off  his  gauntlets, 


304  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

which  were  full  of  blood,  and  his  sabre  and  belt  were  also  re 
moved.  He  then  seemed  easier,  and  having  swallowed  a  mouth 
ful  of  whiskey,  which  was  held  to  his  lips,  appeared  much  re 
freshed.  It  seemed  impossible  to  move  him  without  making  his 
wounds  bleed  afresh,  but  it  was  absolutely  necessary  to  do  so, 
as  the  enemy  were  not  more  than  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards  dis 
tant,  and  might  advance  at  any  moment — and  all  at  once  a  proof 
was  given  of  the  dangerous  position  which  he  occupied.  Cap 
tain  Adams,  of  General  Hill's  staff,  had  ridden  ten  or  fifteen 
yards  ahead  of  the  group,  and  was  now  heard  calling  out,  "  Halt ! 
surrender!  fire  on  them  if  they  don't  surrender!"  At  the  next 
moment  he  came  up  with  two  Federal  skirmishers  who  had  at 
once  surrendered,  with  an  air  of  astonishment,  declaring  that 
they  were  not  aware  they  were  in  the  Confederate  lines. 

General  Hill  had  drawn  his  pistol  and  mounted  his  horse ; 
and  he  now  returned  to  take  command  of  his  line  and  advance, 
promising  Jackson  to  keep  his  accident  from  the  knowledge  of 
the  troops,  for  which  the  general  thanked  him.  He  had  scarcely 
gone  when  Lieutenant  Morrison,  who  had  come  up,  reported  the 
Federal  line  advancing  rapidly,  and  then  within  about  a  hundred 
yards  of  the  spot,  and  exclaimed :  "  Let  us  take  the  General  up 
in  our  arms  and  carry  him  off."  But  Jackson  said  faintly,  "  No, 
if  you  can  help  me  up,  I  can  walk."  He  was  accordingly  lifted 
up  and  placed  upon  his  feet,  when  the  Federal  batteries  in  front 
opened  with  great  violence,  and  Captain  Leigh,  who  had  just 
arrived  with  a  litter,  had  his  horse  killed  under  him  by  a  shell. 
He  leaped  to  the  ground,  near  Jackson,  and  the  latter  leaning 
his  right  arm  on  Captain  Leigh's  shoulder,  slowly  dragged  him 
self  along  toward  the  Confederate  lines,  the  blood  from  his 
wounded  arm  flowing  profusely  over  Captain  Leigh's  uniform. 

Hill's  lines  were  now  in  motion  to  meet  the  coming  attack, 
and  as  the  men  passed  Jackson,  they  saw  from  the  number  and 
rank  of  his  escort  that  he  must  be  a  superior  officer.  "  "Who  is 
that — who  have  you  there?"  was  asked,  to  which  the  reply  was, 
"Oh!  it's  only  a  friend  of  ours  who  is  wounded."  These  in 
quiries  became  at  last  so  frequent  that  Jackson  said  to  his  escort: 
"  When  asked,  just  say  it  is  a  Confederate  officer." 


JACKSON'S  DEATH-WOUND.  305 

It  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  that  the  curiosity  of ,  the 
troops  was  evaded.  They  seemed  to  suspect  something,  and 
would  go  around  the  horses  which  were  led  along  on  each  side 
of  the  General  to  conceal  him,  to  see  if  they  could  discover  who 
it  was.  At  last  one  of  them  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  general, 
who  had  lost  his  cap,  as  we  bave  seen,  in  the  woods,  and  was 
walking  bareheaded  in  the  moonlight — and  suddenly  the  man 
exclaimed  "in  the  most  pitiful  tone,"  says  an  eye-witness: 
"Great  God!  that  is  General  Jackson!"  An  evasive  reply  was 
made,  implying  that  this  was  a  mistake,  and  the  man  looked 
from  the  speaker  to  Jackson  with  a  bewildered  air,  but  passed 
on  without  further  comment.  All  this  occurred  before  Jackson 
had  been  able  to  drag  himself  more  than  twenty  steps;  but 
Captain  Leigh  had  the  litter  at  hand,  and  his  strength  being 
completely  exhausted,  the  General  was  placed  upon  it,  and  borne 
toward  the  rear. 

The  litter  was  carried  by  two  officers  and  two  men,  the  rest 
of  the  escort  walking  beside  it  and  leading  the  horses.  They 
had  scarcely  begun  to  move,  however,  when  the  Federal  artil 
lery  opened  a  furious  fire  upon  the  turnpike  from  the  works  in 
front  of  Chancellorsville,  and  a  hurricane  of  shell  and  canister 
swept  the  road.  What  the  eye  then  saw  was  a  scene  of  disor 
dered  troops,  riderless  horses,  and  utter  confusion.  The  intended 
advance  of  the  Confederates  had  doubtless  been  discovered,  and 
the  Federal  fire  was  directed  along  the  road  over  which  they 
would  move.  By  this  fire  Generals  Hill  and  Fender,  with  sev 
eral  of  their  staff,  were  wounded,  and  one  of  the  men  carrying 
the  litter  was  shot  through  both  arms  and  dropped  his  burden. 
His  companion  did  likewise,  hastily  flying  from  the  dangerous 
locality,  and  but  for  Captain  Leigh,  who  caught  the  handle  of 
the  litter,  it  would  have  fallen  to  the  ground.  Lieutenant  Smith 
had  been  leading  his  own  and  the  General's  horse,  but  the  ani 
mals  now  broke  away,  in  uncontrollable  terror,  and  the  rest  of 
the  party  scattered  to  find  shelter.  Under  these  circumstances 
the  litter  was  lowered  by  Captain  Leigh  and  Lieutenant  Smith 
into  the  road,  and  those  officers  lay  -down  by  it  to  protect  them 
selves,  in  some  degree,  from  the  heavy  fire  of  artillery  which 

20 


306  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

swept  the  turnpike  and  "struck  millions  of  sparks  from  the 
flinty  stones  of  the  roadside."  Jackson  raised  himself  upon  his 
elbow  and  attempted  to  get  up,  but  Lieutenant  Smith  threw  his 
arm  across  his  breast  and  compelled  him  to  desist.  They  lay  in 
this  manner  for  some  minutes  without  moving,  the  hurricane 
still  sweeping  over  them.  "  So  far  as  I  could  see,"  wrote  one  of 
the  officers,  "men  and  horses  were  struggling  with  a  most  ter 
rible  death."  The  road  was,  otherwise,  deserted.  Jackson  and 
his  two  officers  were  the  sole  living  occupants  of  the  spot. 

The  fire  of  canister  soon  relaxed,  though  that  of  shot  and 
shell  continued ;  and  Jackson  rose  to  his  feet.  Leaning  on  the 
shoulders  of  the  party  who  had  rejoined  him,  he  turned  aside 
from  the  road,  which  was  again  filling  with  infantry,  and  struck 
into  the  woods — one  of  the  officers  ibllowing  wich  the  litter. 
Here  he  moved  with  difficulty  among  the  troops  who  were  lying 
down  in  line  of  battle,  and  the  party  encountered  General  Pen- 
der,  who  had  just  been  slightly  wounded.  He  asked  who  it  was 
that  was  wounded,  and  the  reply  was,  "  A  Confederate  officer." 
General  Fender,  however,  recognised  Jackson,  and  exclaimed : 
"  Ah !  General,  I  am  sorry  to  see  you  have  been  wounded.  The 
lines  here  are  so  much  broken  that  I  fear  we  will  have  to  fall 
back."  These  words  seemed  to  affect  Jackson  strongly.  He 
raised  his  head,  and  said  with  a  flash  of  the  eye,  "  You  must 
hold  your  ground,  General  Fender  1  you  must  hold  your  ground, 
sir ! "  This  was  the  last  order  Jackson  ever  gave  upon  the 
field. 


III. 

The  General's  strength  was  now  completely  exhausted,  and  he 
asked  to  be  permitted  to  lie  down  upon  the  ground.  But  to 
this  the  officers  would  not  consent.  The  hot  fire  of  artillery 
which  still  continued,  and  the  expected  advance  of  the  Federal 
infantry,  made  it  necessary  to  move  on,  and  the  litter  was  again 
put  in  requisition.  The  General,  now  nearly  fainting,  was  laid 
upon  it,  and  some  litter-bearers  having  been  procured,  the  whole 


JACKSON'S  DEATH-WOUND.  307 

party  continued  to  move  through  the  tangled  woods,  toward 
Melzi  Chancellor's. 

So  dense  was  the  undergrowth,  and  the  ground  so  difficult, 
that  their  progress  was  very  slow.  An  accident  now  occasioned 
Jackson  untold  agony.  One  of  the  men  caught  his  foot  in  a 
vine,  and  stumbling,  let  go  the  handle  of  the  litter,  which  fell 
heavily  to  the  ground.  Jackson  fell  upon  his  left  shoulder, 
where  the  bone  had  been  shattered,  and  his  agony  must  have 
been  extreme.  "  For  the  first  time,"  says  one  of  the  party,  "  he 
groaned,  and  that  most  piteously."  He  was  quickly  raised,  how 
ever,  and  a  beam  of  moonlight  passing  through  the  foliage  over 
head,  revealed  his  pale  face,  closed  eyes,  and  bleeding  breast. 
Those  around  him  thought  that  he  was  dying.  What  a  death 
for  such  a  man !  All  around  him  was  the  tangled  wood,  only 
half  illumined  by  the  struggling  moonbeams ;  above  him  burst 
the  shells  of  the  enemy,  exploding,  says  an  officer,  "  like  showers 
of  falling  stars,"  and  in  the  pauses  came  the  melancholy  notes 
of  the  whippoorwills,  borne  on  the  night  air.  In  this  strange 
wilderness,  the  man  of  Port  Eepublic  and  Manassas,  who  had 
led  so  many  desperate  charges,  seemed  about  to  close  his  eyes 
and  die  in  the  night. 

But  such  was  not  to  be  the  result  then.  When  asked  by  one 
of  the  officers  whether  he  was  much  hurt,  he  opened  his  eyes 
and  said  quietly  without  further  exhibition  of  pain,  "  No,  my 
friend,  don't  trouble  yourself  about  me."  The  litter  was  then 
raised  upon  the  shoulders  of  the  men,  the  party  continued  their 
way,  and  reaching  an  ambulance  near  Melzi  Chancellor's  placed 
the  wounded  General  in  it.  He  was  then  borne  to  the  field  hos 
pital  at  Wilderness  Run,  some  five  miles  distant. 

Here  he  lay  throughout  the  next  day,  Sunday,  listening  to 
the  thunder  of  the  artillery  and  the  long  roll  of  the  musketry 
from  Chancellorsville,  where  Stuart,  who  had  succeeded  him  in 
command,  was  pressing  General  Hooker  back  toward  the  Rap- 
pahannock.  His  soul  must  have  thrilled  at  that  sound,  long  so 
familiar,  but  he  could  take  no  part  in  the  conflict.  Lying  faint 
and  pale,  in  a  tent  in  rear  of  the  "  Wilderness  Tavern,"  he 
seemed  to  be  perfectly  resigned,  and  submitted  to  the  painful 


308  '  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

probing  of  his  wounds  with  soldierly  patience.  It  was  obviously 
necessary  to  amputate  the  arm,  and  one  of  his  surgeons  asked, 
"  If  we  find  amputation  necessary,  General,  shall  it  be  done  at 
once  ?"  to  which  he  replied  with  alacrity,  "  Yes,  certainly,  Dr. 
McGuire,  do  for  me  whatever  you  think  right."  The  arm  was 
then  taken  off,  and  he  slept  soundly  after  the  operation,  and  on 
waking,  began  to  converse  about  the  battle.  "If  I  had  not 
been  wounded,"  he  said,  "or  had  had  one  hour  more  of  daylight, 
I  would  have  cut  off  the  enemy  from  the  road  to  United  States 
ford ;  we  would  have  had  them  entirely  surrounded,  and  they 
would  have  been  obliged  to  surrender  or  cut  their  way  out ;  they 
had  no  other  alternative.  My  troops  may  sometimes  fail  in 
driving  an  enemy  from  a  position,  but  the  enemy  always  fails  to 
drive  my  men  from  a  position."  It  was  about  this  time  that  we 
received  the  following  letter  from  General  Lee:  "I  have  just 
received  your  note  informing  me  that  you  were  wounded.  I 
cannot  express  my  regret  at  the  occurrence.  Could  I  have  di 
rected  events  I  should  have  chosen  for  the  good  of  the  country 
to  have  been  disabled  in  your  stead.  I  congratulate  you  upon 
the  victory  which  is  due  to  your  skill  and  energy." 

The  remaining  details  of  Jackson's  illness  and  death  are 
known.  He  was  removed  to  Guinney's  Depot,  on  the  Kichmond 
and  Fredericksburg  Eailroad,  where  he  gradually  sank,  pneu 
monia  having  attacked  him.  When  told  that  his  men  on  Sun 
day  had  advanced  upon  the  enemy  shouting  "  Charge,  and  re 
member  Jackson !"  he  exclaimed,  "It  was  just  like  them!  it 
was  just  like  them!  They  are  a  noble  body  of  men!  The 
men  who  live  through  this  war,"  he  added,  "  will  be  proud  to 
say  '  I  was  one  of  the  Stonewall  brigade '  to  their  children." 
Looking  soon  afterwards  at  the  stump  of  his  arm,  he  said, 
"  Many  people  would  regard  this  as  a  great  misfortune.  I  re 
gard  it  as  one  of  the  great  blessings  of  my  life."  He  subse 
quently  said,  "I  consider  these  wounds  a  blessing;  they  were 
given  me  for  some  good  and  wise  purpose,  and  I  would  not  part 
with  them  if  I  could." 

His  wife  was  now  with  him,  and  when  she  announced  to  him, 
weeping,  his  approaching  death,  he  replied  with  perfect  calmness. 


JACKSON'S  DEATH-WOUND.  309 

/ 

"  Very  good,  very  good ;  it  is  all  right."  These  were  nearly  his 
last  words.  He  soon  afterwards  became  delirious,  and  was  heard 
to  matter  "Order  A.  P.  Hill  to  prepare  for  action! — Pass  the 
infantry  to  the  front ! — Tell  Major  Hawks  to  send  forward  pro 
visions  for  the  men ! "  Then  his  martial  ardor  disappeared,  a 
smile  diffused  itself  over  his  pale  features,  and  he  murmured : 
"Let  us  cross  over  the  river  and  rest  under  the  shade  of  the 
trees ! "  It  was  the  river  of  death  he  was  about  to  pass ;  and 
soon  after  uttering  these  words,  he  expired. 

Such  were  the  circumstances  attending  the  death-wound  of 
Jackson.  I  have  detailed  them  with  the  conciseness — but  the 
accuracy,  too — of  a  prods-verbal.  The  bare  statement  is  all  that 
is  necessary — comment  may  be  spared  the  reader. 

The  character  and  career  of  the  man  who  thus  passed  from 
the  arena  of  his  glory,  are  the  property  of  history. 


XII. 
FACETIAE    OF    THE    CAMP 

SOUVENIRS   OF   A   C.    S.    OFFICER. 


NOTHING  is  more  tiresome  than  a  "  Collection  of  Anecdotes ;" 
nothing  more  wearying  than  the  task  of  gathering  them  from 
the  four  winds. 

In  the  memory  of  every  human  being,  however,  linger  many 
"  trifling  incidents'1  which  he  is  loth  to  have  completely  disappear 
from  the  sum  of  things.  Unrecorded  they  are  forgotten — re 
corded  they  live.  They  may  not  be  "  important,"  but  they  are 
characteristic.  They  were  witnessed  by  the  narrator ;  hence  he 
writes  or  tells  them  with  an  interest  infinitely  greater  than  he  feels 
in  repeating  what  he  has  read,  or  has  heard  passing  from  mouth 
to  mouth.  For  him  the  personages  live,  the  localities  exist ;  the 
real  surroundings  frame  the  picture,  however  valueless  it  may  ap 
pear.  If  therefore,  worthy  reader,  the  following  trivia  seem  dull 
to  you,  it  is  because  you  did  not  "  know  the  parties,"  as  the  writer 
did.  Turn  the  page  if  they  weary  you — but  perhaps  you  will 
laugh.  They  are  "trifles."  it  is  true;  but  then  life  is  half  made 
up  of  trifles — is  it  not  ? 

General  Fitz  Lee,  one  day  in  the  fall  of  1863,  sent  a  courier  up 
from  the  Lower  Rappahannock,  to  ask  General  Stuart  why  Gene 
ral  Pleasanton  of  the  U.  S.  Army  "  had  been  sent  to  Georgia  ?" 
— a  dispatch  by  signal  from  corps  headquarters  having  com 
municated  that  intelligence. 


FACETS  OF  THE   CAMP.  311 

Grand  tableau  when  the  affair  was  explained ! 

General  Stuart  had  signalled :  "  Meade's  Headquarters  are  at 
Wai  lack's,  and  Pleasanton's  at  Cumberland  George's" — names  or 
persons  residing  near  Culpeper  Court-house. 

The  signal  flags  had  said  :  "  Meade's  headquarters  are  at 
Wallack's,  and  Pleasanton's  at  Cumberland  Georgia!" 


II. 

In  November,  1863,  Lieutenant. •  was  in  an  old  deserted  man 
sion  near  Culpeper  Court-house,  with  some  prisoners  confined  in 
the  upper  rooms  ;  the  enemy  not  being  far  distant.  "While  wait 
ing,  a  blaze  shot  up  from  a  fire  which  some  soldiers  had  kindled 
near,  and  threw  the  shadow  of  the  Lieutenant  on  the  wall. 
Thinking  the  shadow  was  a  human  being  he  called  out : 

"Halt!  there  I" 

No  reply  from  the  intruder. 

"  Answer,  or  I  fire  !  " 

The  same  silence — when  the  Lieutenant  drew  a  pistol  from  his 
belt.  The  shadow  did  the  same.  The  pistol  was  levelled  :  the 
opposing  weapon  performed  the  same  manoeuvre.  The  Lieute 
nant  thereupon  was  about  to  draw  trigger,  when  one  of  his  men 
called  out  : 

"  Why  law !  Lieutenant,  it  ain't  nothin'  but  your  own 
shadow ! " 

Immense  enjoyment  in  camp,  of  this  historic  occurrence. 
Colonel ,  our  gay  visitor,  drew  a  sketch  of  the  scene,  append 
ing  to  it  the  words : 

"  Now  by  the  Apostle  Paul :  shadows  to-night 

Have  struck  more  terror  to  the  soul  of 

Than  could  the  substance  of  ten  thousand  soldiers 
Armed  all  in  proof  and  led  by  shallow  Buford!  " 


312  WEARING    OF  THE    GRAY. 


III. 

Captain  F was  the  best  of  good  fellows,  and  the  most 

amiable  of  signal  officers.  He  was  visiting  his  signal  posts  near 
Culpeper  one  day,  when  an  infantry-man,  clad  in  a  "butternut" 
costume  lounged  up,  and  looked  on  with  the  deepest  interest 
while  the  man  on  duty  was  "  flopping"  away  right  and  left  with 
his  flag.  Butternut  continued  to  gaze  with  ardour  upon  the 
movements  of  the  signal-man's  flag ;  then  he  suddenly  drawled 
out  in  a  tone  of  affectionate  interest : 

"I  sa-a-y,  str-a-nger  !  Are  the  fli-ies  a  pestering  of  you  ?  " 


IV. 

In  1863  the  enemy  caught  an  old  countryman  near  Madison 
Court-house,  and  informed  him  that  he  must  do  one  of  two 
things — either  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  United  States 
Government  or  prepare  to  be  buried  alive.  He  declined  taking 
the  oath,  when  his  captors  deliberately  proceeded  in  his  presence 
to  dig  a  grave,  and  when  it  was  finished  they  led  him  to  it,  and 
said: 

"  Will  you  take  the  oath  ?  " 

"  No  1"  responded  the  prisoner. 

"  You  had  better  !  " 

"I  won't!  " 

**  If  you  don't  take  that  oath  you'll  be  buried  alive  in  that 
grave,  in  the  next  five  minutes!  " 

The  old  fellow  approached  nearer,  looked  with  attention  at 
the  pit  yawning  before  him,  and  then  turning  round  with  his 
hands  in  his  pockets  replied  calmly  : 

"  Well,  go  on  with  your  d — d  old  funeral !  " 

Laughter  from  the  blue-birds,  and  release  of  the  prisoner  as, 
in  the  fullest  acceptation  of  the  phrase,  a  "  hard  case.  " 


FACETL^!  OF  THE   CAMP.  313 


V. 

General  Order  to  Inspector- General  Y ,  from  Corps  Head 
quarters  :— 

"  Cry  aloud — spare  not — show  my  people  their  transgres 
sions  1  " 


VI. 

General made  a  true  cavalier's  speech,  one  evening  at 

our  camp  on  the  Rapidan.  He  had  ridden  to  headquarters  on  his 
beautiful  mare  "Nelly  Gray,"  whom  he  had  had  ever  since  the 
first  battle  of  Manassas,  and  had  thus  become  warmly  attached 
to.  When  he  went  to  mount  again,  he  found  the  mare  wince 
under  him,  and  after  riding  a  few  yards,  discovered  she  was 
lame,  and  limped  painfully. 

Thereupon  the  General  dismounted,  examined  the  hoof,  rose 
erect  again,  and  uttering  a  deep  sigh  exclaimed : 

"Poor  Nelly!  I  wish  they  could  fix  it  some  way,  so  as  you 
could  ride  me  home  !  " 

That  ought  to  find  a  place  in  the  biography  of  the  brave 
officer  who  uttered  it. 


VII. 

While  I  was  in  the  Valley  in  1863,  I  heard  an  incident  which 
was  enough  to  "  tickle  the  ribs  of  Death,"  and  for  its  truth  I  can 
vouch.  A  body  of  the  enemy's  cavalry  had  advanced  to  the 
vicinity  of  Millwood,  and  two  or  three  men  left  the  column  to  go 
and  "  forage,"  that  is,  take  by  the  strong  hand  what  they  wanted 
for  supper,  from  the  first  house.  Very  soon  they  came  in  sight 
of  a  cabin  in  the  woods,  and  cautiously  approaching — for  the 
Confederate  scouts  were  supposed  to  be  everywhere — knocked 
at  the  low  door. 

A  negro  woman  came  at  the  summons,  exhibiting  very  great 


314  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

terror  at  the  sight  of  the  blue  coats— and  the  following  colloquy 
ensued : 

"  We  want  some  supper." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"But,  first,  is  there  anybody  here?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Are  you  sure  ?  " 

"  Oh  1  they  ain't  nobody  here  but  me — 'cept — " 

"  Except  who  ?  " 

"  Only  Colonel  Mosby.  sir." 

"  Colonel  Mosby  II!"  exclaimed  the  speaker,  with  at  least 
three  exclamation  points  in  his  accent,  and  getting  hastily  into 
the  saddle. 

"  Are  you  joking?  "  he  added.  "  You  better  not.  Is  Coldhel 
Mosby  here  ?  " 

"  Ye — s,  sir,"  stammered  the  woman  in  great  terror ;  and  at 
the  same  moment  a  low  noise  like  that  produced  by  the  footstep 
of  a  man  was  heard  within. 

No  sooner  did  they  hear  this  than  the  men  turned  their  horses' 
heads,  hurried  off,  and,  rejoining  their  command,  reported  that 
Colonel  Mosby,  the  celebrated  partisan  and  "guerilla,"  was 
alone  in  a  house  in  the  woods — to  which  house  they  could  easily 
conduct  a  party  for  his  capture. 

The  information  was  promptly  conveyed  to  the  officer  in  com 
mand,  and  as  promptly  acted  upon.  A  detachment  was  imme 
diately  ordered  to  mount,  and,  led  by  the  guides,  they  advanced 
straight  towards  the  hoase,  which  they  soon  saw  rise  before 
them. 

It  was  then  necessary  to  act  with  caution.  Colonel  Mosby 
was  well  known  to  be  an  officer  of  desperate  courage,  and  it  was 
certain  that  before  permitting  himself  to  be  captured  he  would 
make  a  resolute  resistance.  This  was  to  be  counted  on,  both 
from  the  soldierly  nerve  of  the  individual  and  from  the  fact  that 
he  was  regarded  by  many  of  his  enemies  as  a  "  bushwhacker  " 
and  outlaw,  and  might  be  hanged  to  the  first  tree,  if  captured, 
not  treated  as  a  prisoner  of  war.  From  this  resulted  the  con 
viction  that  the  celebrated  partisan  would  sell  his  life  dearly ; 


FACETIJB   OF  THE   CAMP.  315 

and  the  party  bent  upon  his  capture  omitted  no  precautions  in 
advancing  to  attack  the  wild  animal  in  his  lair. 

An  advance-guard  was  thrown  forward  ;  carbineers  were  dis 
mounted,  and  directed  to  make  a  circuit  and  approach  the  house, 
from  front,  flanks,  and  rear ;  and  having  thus  made  his  disposi 
tions,  the  officer  in  command  pushed  up  at  the  head  of  his  men 
to  the  house,  at  the  door  of  which  he  gave  a  thundering  knock. 

No  'sooner  had  the  trembling  negro  woman  laid  her  hand  on 
the  latch  to  reply  to  this  summons,  than  the  force  burst  in, 
cocked  pistols  in  hand,  ready  to  capture  Mosby. 

He  was  not  visible.  In  fact  there  was  no  other  human  being 
in  the  cabin  except  a  negro  baby,  lying  in  a  cradle,  and  sucking 
its  thumb. 

"  Where  is  Mosby  ?  "  thundered  the  officer. 

'  Oh  !  there  he  is !  "  was  the  trembling  reply  of  the  woman. 

"Where?" 

"  There,  sir  !  " 

And  the  woman  pointed  to  the  cradle. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Oh,  sir !  I  don't  mean — I  didn't  mean  nothin' !  I  call  him 
'  Mosby,'  sir — '  Colonel  Mosby,'  sir — that's  his  name,  sir !  " 

And  awaiting  her  doom,  she  stood  trembling  before  the 
intruders.  ,  Those  personages  lookqjd  from  the  woman  to  the 
baby,  sucking  away  at  his  thumb ;  scowled,  growled,  took  ano 
ther  look ;  saw  that  the  woman  told  the  truth  ;  and  then  a  roar 
of  laughter  followed,  which  continued  until  they  had  mounted 
and  were  out  of  sight. 

It  is  said  that  this  incident  was  not  mentioned  by  the  men 
upon  their  return  ;  they  only  reported  Mosby  "  not  found." 
I  have  mentioned  it,  however,  and  I  vouch  for  it.  The  mother 
of  "  Colonel  Mosby,"  Black  and  Jr.,  was  a  servant  of  the  hospi 
table  mansion  in  which  I  tarried ;  the  family  declared  the  inci 
dent  exactly  true ;  and  the  hero  of  the  affair,  the  black  baby, 
namely,  is  still  living.  Lastly,  I  know  the  woman  ;  she  is  very 
worthless,  but  all  are. 


316  WEARING    OF  THE    GRAY. 


VIII. 

There  was  down  in  Stafford,  during  the  war,  a  youthful  negro 
of  six  or  eight  years  of  age,  who  excited  the  admiration  of  every 
body  by  his  passionate  devotion  to  the  Confederacy,  and  the 
"big  words"  which  he  used.  In  fact,  his  vocabulary  was  made 
up  of  what  Mr.  Thackeray  calls  "  the  longest  and  handsomest 
words  in  the  dictionary." 

Still  he  could  be  terse,  pointed,  epigrammatic,  and  hard-cut 
ting  in  speech.  Of  these  statements  two  illustrations  are  given. 

1.  When  an  artillery  fight  took  place  near  the  mansion  which 
had  the  honour  of  sheltering  him,  the  young  African  was  observed 
to  pause,  assume  an  attitude  of  extreme  attention,  remove  his 
hat,  scratch  his  head,  and  listen.     Then  turning  to  his  master, 
he   said   with   dignity,    "  Hear   that  artillery,  sir.     Those  are, 
beyond  a  doubt,  the  guns  of  Stonewall  Jackson." 

2.  Second  illustration.     A  Federal  officer  of  high   rank   and 
character,  a  bitter  Democrat  and  opponent  of  the  negro-loving 
party,  with  an  extreme  disgust,  indeed,  for  the  whole  black  race ; 
this  gentleman  visited  the  house  where  the  young  Crichton  lived, 
and  taking  a  seat  in  the  parlour,  began  conversing  with  the  ladies. 

While  so  doing  he  was  startled  by  a  voice  at  his  elbow,  and  a 
vigorous  clap  upon  the  back  of  his  splendid  uniform.  Turning 
quickly  in  extreme  wrath  at  this  disrespect,  he  saw  the  grinning 
face  of  young  ebony  behind  him ;  and  from  the  lips  of  the 
youth  issued  the  loud  and  friendly  address : 

"  Hallo,  Yank  !  Do  you  belong  to  Mr.  Lincoln  ?  You  are 
fighting  for  me— ain't  you  ?  " 

The  officer  recoiled  in  disgust,  looked  daggers,  and  brushing 
his  uniform,  as  though  it  had  been  contaminated,  growled  to  the 
lady  of  the  house  : 

"  You  taught  him  this,  madam  1  " 


FACETI.E  OF  THE   CAMP.  317 


IX. 

In  June,  1863,  General  Lee  was  going  to  set  out  for  Gettys 
burg.  To  mask  the  movement  of  his  infantry  from  the  Lower 
Kappahannock,  a  cavalry  review  was  ordered,  on  the  plains  of 
Culpeper. 

That  gay  and  gallant  commander,  General  Fitz  Lee,  there 
upon,  sent  word  to  General  Hood  to  "come  and  see  the  review, 
and  bring  any  of  his  people  " — meaning  probably  his  staff  and 
headquarters. 

On  the  second  day  the  gray  masses  of  Hood's  entire  division 
emerged,  with  glittering  bayonets,  from  the  woods  in  the  direc 
tion  of  the  Rapidan. 

" You  invited  me  and  my  people"  said  Hood,  shaking  hands 
with  General  Fitz,  "and  you  see  I  have  brought  them!" 

Laughter  followed,  and  General  Fitz  Lee  said : 

"Well,  don't  let  them  halloo,  'Here's  your  mule!'  at  the 
review." 

"  If  they  do  we  will  charge  you!  "  interrupted  General  Wade 
Hampton,  laughing. 

For  all  that  the  graybacks  of  Hood,  who  duly  attended  the 
review,  did  not  suppress  their  opinions  of  the  cavalry.  As  the 
horsemen  charged  by  the  tall  flag  under  which  General  E.  E. 
Lee  sat  his  horse  looking  at  them,  a  weather-beaten  Texan  of 
Hood's  "Old  Brigade"  turned  round  to  a  comrade  and  muttered : 

"  Wouldn't  we  clean  them  out,  if  Old  Hood  would  only  let  us 
loose  on  'em ! " 

The  infantry  never  could  forgive  their  cavalry  brethren  the 
possession  of  horses — while  they  had  to  walk. 


X. 

General  W gave  me,  one  day,  a  good  anecdote  of  Cedar 

Run.     He  was  then  Colonel  of  artillery,  and  when  the  Confede 
rates'  left  wing  was  thrown  into  disorder,  strenuously  exerted 


318  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

himself  to  induce  the  stragglers  to  return  to  the  fight.  This  was 
not  an  easy  task — the  troops  were  demoralized  for  the  moment 
by  the  suddenness  of  the  attack. 

In  consequence,  the  Colonel  had  small  success ;  and  this  en 
raged  him.  When  enraged  the  "Colonel  swore,  and  when  he 
swore  he  did  so  with  extraordinary  vehemence  and  eloquence. 
On  this  occasion  he  surpassed  all  his  previous  performances, 
uttering  a  volley  of  oaths  sufficient  to  make  a  good  Christian's 
hair  rise  up. 

He  had  just  grasped  the  collar  of  a  straggler,  who  would  not 
stop  at  his  order,  and  was  discharging  at  him  a  perfect  torrent 
of  curses,  when,  chancing  to  turn  his  head,  he  saw  close  behind 
him  no  less  a  personage  than  the  oath-hating  and  sternly-pious 
General  Stonewall  Jackson.  * 

Jackson's  aversion  to  profanity  was  proverbial  in  the  army. 

It  was  known  to  excite  his  extreme  displeasure.  Colonel  W 

therefore  stopped  abruptly,  hung  his  head,  and  awaited  in  silence 
the  stern  rebuke  of  his  superior. 

It  came  in  these  words,  uttered  in  the  mildest  tone : 

"  That's  right,  Colonel— get  'em  up  ! " 


XL 

Another  anecdote  of  Jackson — but  this  one,  I  fear,  has  crept 
into  print.  Some  readers,  however,  may  not  have  seen  it. 

After  Port  Eepublic,  the  General  was  riding  along  the  line 
when  he  heard  the  following  colloquy  between  two  soldiers  of 
the  Stonewall  Brigade. 

"  Curse  the  Yankees !  I  wish  they  were  in  hell,  every  one  of 
them !  " 

"  I  don't." 

"  Why  don't  you  ?  " 

"Because  if  they  were,  Old  Jack  would  be  following  'em  up 
close,  with  the  old  Stonewall  Brigade  in  front !" 

Jackson's  face  writhed  into  a  grin ;  from  his  lips  a  low  laugh 
issued  ;  but  he  rode  on  in  silence,  making  no  comment. 


F ACETL&  OF  THE   CAMP.  319 


XII. 

General  C was  proverbial  for  his  stubborn  courage  and 

bulldog  obstinacy  in  a  fight.  In  every  battle  his  brigade'  was 
torn  to  pieces — for  he  would  never  leave  the  ground  until  he 
was  hurled  back  from  it,  crushed  and  bleeding. 

The  views  of  such  a  man  on  the  subject  of  military  courage 
are  worth  knowing.  He  gave  them  to  me  briefly  one  day,  on 
the  battle-field. 

Here  is  the  statement  of  General  C . 

"  The  man  who  says  that  he  likes  to  go  into  an  infantry  charge, 
such  as  tliere  was  at 


PART  III. 

OUTLINES  FROM  THE  OUTPOST. 


21 


L 

A  SCOUT  ACROSS  THE  RAPPAHANNOCK. 


MY  friend,  Lieutenant  T ,  is  a  beau  gargon.  He  is  tall, 

comely,  about  nineteen,  and  calls  a  very  illustrious  personage 
"  Cousin  Robert."  He  wears  a  hat  with  a  wide  rim,  and  an 
ebon  feather  "  floating  free  "  as  becomes  a  cavalry  officer ;  around 
his  waist  a  black  leather  belt  holds  his  pistol;  huge  horseman's 
boots  reach  above  his  knees,  and  afford  him  in  his  leisure  mo 
ments  a  very  great  resource  in  pulling  them  up. 

Many  idle  hours  have  afflicted  my  friend  lately  in  consequence 
of  the  cessation  of  hostilities.  He  has  spent  his  time  chiefly  in 
whittling  sticks,  which  proves  an  unfailing,  though  not  exciting 
resource  to  him.  While  whittling  he  talks,  and  he  is  a  gay  and 
delightful  companion ;  relating  his  adventures  with  a  charming 
nonchalance,  and  laughing  "  in  the  pauses."  Though  still  young, 
he  has  had  numerous  experiences  of  a  stirring  character.  In 
Maryland,  just  before  the  battle  of  Sharpsburg,  he  was  taken 
prisoner,  and  had  a  private  interview  with  General  McClellan, 
who  had  known  some  of  his  relations,  and  sent  for  him.  The 
General,  he  declares,  was  a  very  pleasant  personage,  and  very 
much  of  a  gentleman;  easy,  bland,  smiling;  and  asked  "how 
many  brigades  of  cavalry  Stuart  had."  Whereto  my  friend 
replied  evasively,  when  the  General  added,  laughing : 

"  Oh,  I  merely  asked  to  satisfy  my  private  curiosity — not  to 
extract  information." 

"  Of  course,  General." 

"I  have  heard  he  had  four  brigades." 

"If  you  have  heard  that,  of  course  it  must  be  so,  General." 

Laughter  from  General  McClellan,  and  friendly  termination 


321  WEARING    OF   THE    GRAY. 

of  the  interview.  The  General,  he  says,  was  "  quite  a  gentle 
man,"  and  ordered  him  to  be  released  on  his  parole  to  return  to 
and  remain  in  the  county  of  Fauquier  until  he  was  exchanged. 
Returned  there ;  and  was  still  at  home  when — McClellan's  head 
having  fallen — Burnside  came  along,  when  he  was  arrested  as  a 
suspicious  character,  and  taken  before  the  new  commander, 
Burnside,  portly,  polite,  not  at  all  stern— rather  good-humoured. 

T gave  an  account  of  himself,  and  was  released  and  sent 

back  to  his  home  in  Fauquier.  Here  he  remained  until  a  scout 
ing  party  of  his  friends  came  in,  when  he  had  himself  captured 
and  returned  to  the  army.  He*  did  not  make  this  return  journey 
on  foot.  He  was  mounted,  as  became  a  cavalier — but  on  a  white 
mule.  This  white  mule  was  not,  however,  a  portion  of  his 
patrimonial  property  of  a  movable  character.  He  procured  it 
from  a  Northern  friend  in  the  following  manner:  he  was  wearily 
walking  along  the  road,  and  saw  a  "  blue-bird  "  approach  him, 
mounted  on  the  mule  in  question.  He  was  unarmed,  but  so 
was  my  friend — and  the  Lieutenant  immediately,  in  a  voice  of 
thunder,  ordered  him  to  get  down  and  surrender.  The  blue 
bird  obeyed,  and  the  Lieutenant  mounted — magnanimously  per 
mitting  his  prisoner  to  go  free,  inasmuch  as  he  had  no  means  of 
securing  him.  Having  paroled  him  formally,  he  made  haste  out 
of  the  lines. 

Such  is  the  young  Lieutenant  who,  having  nothing  to  do, 
whittles  sticks. 

He  has  a  comrade  whose  name  is  Lieutenant  H .  This 

young  gentleman  is  of  about  the  same  age,  and  his  countenance 
is  comely  and  smooth.  His  manners  are  unusually  soft  and 
mild,  and  he  spends  all  his  leisure  in  reading.  He  is  familiar 
with  Shakspeare,  and  quotes  that  great  bard,  going  through  all 
the  attitudes,  and  astonishing  the  bystanders.  Having  mounted 
my  horse  some  days  since  to  visit  a  young  lady,  I  was  suddenly 

startled  by  the  appearance  of  Lieutenant  H ,  who,  leaning 

one  hand  on  my  knee,  struck  an  attitude,  and  broke  forth,  "  Tell 
her  she's  the  sun,  and  I  the  moon !  Arise,  fair  sun,  and  shine 
upon  my  night!"  Having  entrusted  me  with  this  commission, 
my  friend  returned  in  silence  to  his  literary  pursuits.  The  Lieu- 


A  SCOUT  ACROSS  THE  RAPPAHANNOCK.       325 

tenant  is  so  mild  and  comely  of  face,  that  he  has  been  declared 
to  be  "like  a  girl."  But  he  is  a  man,  and  a  dangerous  one, 
when  after  the  blue-coats.  He  is  devoted  to  these,  and  pays 
them  his  respects  upon  all  occasions.  He  is  fond  of  reading, 
but  greatly  prefers  fighting.  Happily  married,  and  keeping 
house  with  his  helpmate,  in  camp,  he  is  still  impatient  at  the 

idlesse  of  the  times.  Like  his  friend,  Lieutenant  T ,  he  is 

longing  for  some  movement,  and  sustains  the  dull  days  with 
difficulty. 

If  the  characters  of  my  two  friends  are  sufficiently  indicated 
by  the  above  sketch,  the  reader  will  comprehend  with  what 
pleasure  they  obtained  permission  in  December  last  (1862)  to  go 
on  a  romantic  little  scout  into  the  lines  of  the  enemy,  beyond 
the  Eappahannock.  Burnside  was  then  getting  ready  to  cross 
at  Fredericksburg,  and  his  cavalry  scouted  daily  along  the  north 
bank  of  the  river,  up  and  down — so  the  commission  of  entering 
King  George  was  an  exciting  one,  promising  no  little  adven 
ture. 

But  to  procure  information  of  the  enemy's  designs  was  only  a 
part  of  their  orders — the  most  agreeable  portion  remains  behind. 
They  were  directed  not  only  to  spy  out  the  land,  and  the  po 
sition  of  the  foe,  but  also  to  escort  a  young  lady,  then  in  King 
George  county,  through  the  enemy's  lines  into  our  own.  As 
the  reader  will  imagine,  this  was  far  from  disagreeable  to  the 
chivalric  young  officers  ;  and  they  made  their  preparations  with 
alacrity. 

Leaving  their  swords  behind,  as  calculated  to  impede  their 
movements  when  they  entered  the  enemy's  country,  as  they 
must  do,  on  foot,  they  took  only  pistol  and  carbine,  and  set  out 
for  a  point  down  the  river. 

The  place  which  they  chose  for  crossing  was  Port  Koyal,  that 
lovely  little  village  which  nestles  down  prettily,  like  a  bird,  in 
the  green  fields — and  here,  leaving  their  horses  at  the  house  of 
a  friend,  they  were  taken  across  in  a  canoe,  by  a  sympathizing 
boatman,  and  landed  on  the  northern  bank. 

From  that  moment  it  was  necessary  to  bring  into  play  all  the 
keenness  and  ready  faculties  of  the  woodman  and  the  scout. 


326  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

They  were  armed,  as  I  have  said,  with  pistol  and  carbine ;  but 
these  were  of  little  use  against  the  enemy,  who,  if  encountered 
at  all,  would  outnumber  and  overpower  them.  Their  only  hopes 
of  success  lay  in  eluding  such  scouting  parties  as  they  came 
across,  and  "snaking  it "  to  their  destination  and  back  again. 

Soon  after  leaving  the  river  their  adventures  commenced. 
Avoiding  the  roads,  and  making  their  way  through  the  woods, 
they  came  all  at  once  upon  a  large  Federal  camp,  and  passed  so 
near  it  that  they  could  hear  the  words  uttered  by  the  soldiers, 
but  fortunately  the  darkness  of  the  night  prevented  them  from 
being  seen.  Leaving  the  camp  to  the  right,  they  continued 
their  way,  walking  all  night,  and  giving  a  wide  berth  to  such 
picket  fires  as  they  saw  glimmering  near  their  route.  They  thus 
reached  in  safety  the  house  of  a  lady  whom  one  of  the  party 
knew,  and  where  they  were  certain  of  food  and  rest.  These 
were  now  greatly  needed  by  the  young  adventurers.  Their 
tramp  had  been  exciting  and  prolonged,  over  very  rough  ground 
— they  had  not  tasted  food  since  the  preceding  day — and  the 
whole  night  had  been  spent  upon  the  road,  or  rather  in  the 
woods,  without  rest  or  sleep. 

Beaching  the  hospitable  mansion  about  daybreak,  they  aroused 
the  lady,  and  informed  her,  in  a  few  words,  of  their  object. 
"Up  went  the  hushed  amaze  of  hand  and  eye,"  as  the  English 
laureate  says;  but  the  worthy  dame  acted  quickly.  Without 
stopping  to  parley  she  admitted  them,  closed  the  door,  and  had 
an  excellent  breakfast  prepared  at  once.  Having  done  full 
honour  to  the  meal,  the  young  men,  worn  out  with  fatigue  and 
want  of  sleep,  went  to  bed,  and  slept  several  hours,  quite  ob 
livious  of  the  fact  that  they  were  far  within  the  lines  of  the 
enemy,  and  subject  at  any  moment  to  be  "caught  napping." 

Eising  at  last,  the  first  thing  which  they  did  was  to  look 
around  for  something  more  to  eat !  It  was  ready  on  the  table, 
awaiting  them,  and  they  attacked  the  substantial  viands  as  if 
they  had  not  eaten  before  for  a  month.  Some  excellent  cider 
accompanied  the  solids — and  this,  it  appeared,  was  a  present 
from  a  young  lady  who,  living  close  by,  had  been  informed  of 
their  presence,  and  thus  manifested  her  sympathy. 


A  SCOUT  ACROSS  THE  BAPPAHANNOCK.       327 

As  they  rose  from  the  table,  the  young  lady  in  question  entered 
the  dining-room;  and  looking  very  attentively  at  Lieutenant 
T ,  said,  smiling  : 

"  I  have  your  picture,  sir  I " 

The  young  man  was  naturally  astonished  at  the  announce 
ment,  as  he  had  certainly  never  seen  the  young  girl  before  ;  and 
said,  with  a  laugh,  that  she  must  be  mistaken. 

"  No,  indeed  I  am  not,"  was  the  smiling  reply  ;  "  are  you  not 
Lieutenant! ?" 

"  Yes,  madam." 

"  As  I  thought." 

And  the  explanation  followed.  The  young  lady  had  a  cousin 

who  had  gone  to  school  with  Lieutenant  T ,  and  the  two  had 

become  great  friends.  When  the}7  parted,  they  had  recourse  to 
a  friendly  means  of  remembering  each  other,  very  common  with 
young  men — they  had  their  daguerreotypes  taken  together,  both 
in  the  same  picture,  and  each  took  one.  The  young  lady's  cou 
sin  had  presented  his  own  to  her ;  and  thus  as  soon  as  she  saw 

Lieutenant  T ,  she  recognised  the  original  of  the  friend  of 

whom  her  cousinhad  often  spoken. 

This  romantic  little  incident  was  far  from  putting  the  young 
adventurers  in  a  bad  humour  with  their  enterprise.  They  tarried 
at  the  house  of  the  hospitable  dame  long  enough  to  become  excel 
lent  friends  with  the  pretty  maiden,  and  to  procure  all  the  in 
formation  which  the  ladies  could  give  them.  Then,  as  soon  as 
the  shades  of  evening  drew  on,  they  took  up  the  line  of  march 
again  toward  their  destination — passing  more  Federal  camps,  but 
running  the  gauntlet  successfully  between  them  all — and  arriving 
safely. 

Disappointment  awaited  them  here.  The  fair  lady  whom  they 
came  to  carry  off  to  the  "  happy  land  of  Dixie,"  was  not  ready  to 
return  with  them.  For  some  reason — doubtless  a  good  one, 
which  I  may  have  heard,  but  have  now  forgotten — she  determined 
to  remain  where  she  was ;  and  the  young  men,  having  secured 
valuable  information  of  the  number  and  positions  of  the  enemy, 
set  out  on  their  return. 

They  succeeded,  after  many  adventures,  in  reaching  the  vicini- 


328  WEARING    OF  THE    GEAY. 

ty  of  the  river  again.  To  recross  was  the  great  difficulty — for 
there  was  no  longer  a  sympathizing  friend  near  at  hand  with  a 
boat.  In  addition  to  this,  the  banks  were  at  this  point  thorough 
ly  picketed,  and  they  were  in  danger  of  being  stopped  "by  a  mus 
ket-ball  if  they  even  secured  a  canoe. 

The  attempt  to  cross  was  necessary  to  be  made,  however.  It 
was  now  night,  and  if  they  were  detained  on  the  north  bank  of 
the  Rappahannock  until  the  next  day,  they  would  be  in  im 
minent  danger  of  capture. 

They  accordingly  set  to  work.  Necessity,  the  benign  mother  of 
invention,  pointed  out  two  logs,  lying  in  a  sort  of  marsh,  on  the 
edge  of  the  stream ;  and  these  logs  the  young  men  proceeded  to 
lash  together.  Having  no  cords  of  any  description,  they  used 
their  suspenders,  and  finally  succeeded  in  launching  the  im 
promptu  raft  upon  the  stream. 

As  it  floated  off,  they  found  all  at  once  that  they  were  moving 
into  view  of  a  sentinel  posted  upon  the  rising  ground  beyond 
the  swampy  bottom ;  and  every  moment  expected  to  be  chal 
lenged — the  challenge  to  be  succeeded  by  the  whizzing  of  balls. 

The  enterprise  terminated  for  the  moment,  differently,  however. 
The  raft  had  been  constructed  without  very  profound  science ; 

the  suspenders  gave  way  ;  and  Lieutenant  T found  himself 

astraddle  one  log,  and  Lieutenant  H—   -  the  other. 

Grand  tableau  !— and  the  aforesaid  "  happy  land  of  Dixie"  as 
far  off  as  ever  ! 

They  were  forced  to  return  to  the  northern  bank,  which  they 
succeeded  in  doing  with  difficulty,  and  "  as  wet  as  drowned  rats." 
It  was  necessary  to  scout  along  the  stream,  to  find  if  possible 
some  better  means  of  crossing.  This  river  is  difficult  to  pass — 
General  Burnside  was,  at  the  same  moment,  engaged  in  the  same 
task  which  absorbed  the  energies  of  the  gay  youths. 

Ascending  the  bank,  and  flanking  the  picket,  they  plunged 
into  the  wood,  and  struck  down  the  river. 

They  were  not  to  be  so  fortunate  as  before. 

Seeing  no  picket-fires  for  a  long  way  ahead,  they  ventured 
into  the  road — but  were  suddenly  startled  by  the  tramp  of  cavalry 
coming  toward  them  from  below. 


A  SCOUT  ACKOSS  THE  RAPPAHANNOCK.  329 

They  leaped  the  ditch  and  brushwood  fence,  and  were  about  to 
scud  across  the  field,  when  the  troop  was  upon  them,  and  dis 
covered  the  moving  figures  in  the  dim  starlight. 

"  Halt !"  came  from  the  officer  in  command,  as  he  drew  up; 
and  seeing  that  their  further  progress  would  be  arrested  by  a 
shower  of  carbine  balls,  the  young  men  threw  themselves  upon 
the  ground  close  beside  the  brush  fence,  trusting  to  the  darkness 
to  hide  them. 

"  I  certainly  saw  men  there,"  said  the  officer. 

"  I  don't  think  it  was  anything  but  cows."  said  another  voice. 

"  Send  a  man  to  see." 

And  a  trooper  pushed  across  into  the  field,  and  rode  up  to  the 
truants,  who,  finding  themselves  discovered,  put  the  best  face 
upon  the  matter. 

They  were  conducted  to  the  officer  in  command,  who  said  : 

"  Who  are  you  ?" 

"  Third  Indiana  Cavalry,"  responded  Lieutenant  T , 

promptly. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here,  away  from  your  regiment  ?" 

"  We  were  left  behind,  sick,  sir,"  was  the  reply,  "  and  sent  on 
our  horses  with  the  baggage.  We  are  now  looking  for  the 
camp." 

This  was  uttered  in  the  most  plausible  manner  imaginable,  and 
as  the  darkness  hid  the  young  man's  Confederate  uniform,  there 
was  nothing  suspicious  about  him  to  the  eyes  of  the  officer.  The 
two  youths  seemed  to  be  what  they  represented  themselves — 
stragglers  or  sick,  trying  to  rejoin  their  companies — and  no 
doubts  appeared  to  rest  upon  the  Federal  Captain's  mind. 

He  reprimanded  them  for  dodging  about,  and  proceeded  on  his 
way — taking  the  precaution,  however,  of  a  good  officer,  of  leaving 
a  mounted  man  in  charge  of  them,  with  orders  to  conduct  them 
to  the  camp  of  the  regiment  to  which  he  belonged,  about  half  a 
mile  distant,  and  report  to  the  Colonel. 

The  troop  was  soon  out  of  sight,  and  the  cavalry-man  and  his 
prisoners  proceeded  slowly  in  the  same  direction ;  their  conduc 
tor  holding  a  cocked  pistol  in  his  right  hand. 

The  young  men  exchanged  glances.    Now  or  never  was  their 


330  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

opportunity.  In  fact,  something  more  than  loss  of  liberty  was 
involved  in  their  capture.  They  had  represented  themselves  as 
members  of  the  Third  Indiana  Cavalry  ;  were  within  the  Federal 
lines ;  they  were  clearly  reducible  under  the  head  of  spies  ;  and 
in  that  character  would  have  a  short  shrift  and  a  stout  rope  for 
their  pains. 

The  camp  was  near,  the  time  short,  action  was  necessary. 

To  action  they  accordingly  proceeded. 

Lieutenant  H ,  as  I  have  said,  is  young  ;  has  an  engaging 
ly  girlish  expression  of  countenance,  and  his  voice  is  as  bland 
and  kindly  as  possible. 

"  You  have  a  good  horse,  there,  my  friend,"  said  Lieutenant 
H mildly,  and  with  an  innocent  smile. 

"Yes,  sir"  was  the  reply;  "as  good  a  horse  as  ever 'was 
foaled  in  the  State  of  York." 

"What  stock  is  he?"  continued  Lieutenant  H ,  softly; 

and  he  laid  his  hand  on  the  rein  as  he  spoke. 

Before  the  cavalry-man  could  reply,  Lieutenant  H made 

a  sudden  clutch  at  the  pistol  which  the  trooper  held ;  missed  it, 
and  found  the  muzzle  instantly  thrust  into  his  face. 

It  was  quickly  discharged,  and  again,  and  again  ;  but  strange 
to  say,  not  a  single  ball  took  effect. 

Lieutenant  H retreated,  and  the  trooper  turned  round 

and  rode  at  Lieutenant  T ,  who  was  armed  with  a  carbine 

which  he  had  borrowed  from  me  for  the  expedition. 

As  the  trooper  rode  at  him,  he  raised  the  weapon,  took  aim, 
and  fired.  In  narrating  this  portion  of  his  adventures,  the  Lieu 
tenant  says : 

"  I  don't  know  whether  I  killed  him,  but  he  gurgled  in  his 
throat,  his  horse  whirled  round  and  ran,  and  fifty  yards  off,  he 
fell  from  the  saddle." 

To  continue  my  narrative.  The  situation  of  the  youths  was 
more  critical  than  ever  after  the  "  suppression  "  of  the  trooper. 
The  company  of  cavalry  were  not  far  off;  the  firing  had  certain 
ly  been  heard,  and  a  detachment  would  speedily  be  sent  back  to 
inquire  what  had  occasioned  it,  even  if  the  riderless  horse  did 
not  announce  fully  all  that  had  taken  place.  No  time  was  to  be 


A  SCOUT  ACROSS  THE   RAPPAHAXNOCK.  331 

lost,  and  the  adventurous  youths  leaped  the  brush  fence,  ran 
across  the  field,  and  took  shelter  in  a  pine  thicket,  through  which 
they  continued  to  advance  as  before,  down  the  river. 

They  did  not  observe  any  signs  of  pursuit,  and  after  a  weary 
march,  reached  the  vicinity  of  Port  Con  way. 

One  more  incident  occurred. 

Toward  daylight  they  found  themselves  near  a  country  house 
on  the  river  bank.  Half  dead  for  want  of  food,  for  they  had 
eaten  nothing  since  the  forenoon  of  the  preceding  day,  they  ven 
tured  to  approach  the  building,  and  knocked  at  the  door. 

No  reply  came ;  no  evidence  that  the  place  was  inhabited. 
The}7  knocked  again,  and  this  time  were  more  successful. 

An  upper  window  of  the  house  was  raised,  the  head  of  a  lady 
in  coiffure  de  nuit  thrust  out,  and  a  voice  asked — 

"  Who  is  there?" 

"  Friends,"  returned  Lieutenant  T ,  at  a  venture  ;  "we  are 

worn  out  with  hunger  and  fatigue,  and  want  a  little  bread  and 
rest." 

"  The  old  story ! "  returned  the  voice ;  "  I  am  tired  of  you 
stragglers." 

"  Stragglers !  " 

a  Yes ;  there  are  thousands  of  you  going  about  and  plunder 
ing  people.  You  can't  come  in  !  " 

And  the  head  made  a  motion  to  retire. 

My  friend,  Lieutenant  T ,  is  an  intelligent  youth.  He 

understands  readily,  and  an  instant  sufficed  to  make  him  compre 
hend  that  he  and  his  friend  v/ere  refused  admittance  because 
they  were  regarded  as  Yankees.  There  were  no  other  "  strag 
glers  "  in  that  region ;  it  was  plain  how  the  land  lay  in  regard 
to  the  fair  lady's  sentiments,  and  the  result  of  these  quick  reflec 
tions  was  the  reply : 

"  We  are  not  Yankees,  we  are  Confederates  !  " 

At  these  words  the  head  all  at  once  returned  to  the  frame 
work  of  the  window. 

"  Confederates !  "  exclaimed  the  head ;  "  you  are  trying  to 
deceive  me." 

"  Indeed  we  are  not !  " 


332  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

"  "What  are  you  doing  over  here  ?  " 

"  "We  came  across  on  a  scout,  and  are  now  going  back.  We 
were  captured  by  a  party  of  cavalry,  but  got  away  from  them, 
and  are  pushing  down  the  river  to  find  a  place  to  cross." 

"  Are  you  telling  me  the  truth  ?  " 

"  Indeed  we  are." 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  " 

"  Lieutenant  T T- 

"  What  is  the  name  of  your  home?  " 

"  Kinloch." 

"  What  is  your  father's  name  ?  " 

The  young  man  gave  it. 

"  Your  mother's  name  ?  " 

He  gave  that,  also. 

"  You  are  m}^  cousin  !  "  said  the  lady,  completely  satisfied  ; 
"  wait  and  I  will  come  down  and  let  you  in." 

Who  will  doubt  about  the  clans  of  Virginia  after  that ! 

The  good  lady,  who  was  really  a  relative  of  Lieutenant  T , 

admitted  them,  gave  them  a  warm  welcome,  and  a  hot  break 
fast  ;  had  her  best  beds  prepared  for  them  ;  and  as  before,  they 
proved  mighty  trenchermen ;  after  which  they  proceeded  to  sleep 
like  the  seven  champions  of  Christendom. 

On  the  same  afternoon  they  succeeded  in  procuring  a  canoe, 
bade  their  good  hostess  farewell,  and  crossed  the  river,  just  in 
time  to  hear  the  roar  of  the  cannon  at  Fredericksburg.  These 
events  had  passed  between  the  tenth  and  thirteenth  days  of 
December. 

I  have  used  no  colours  of  fancy  in  narrating  the  adventure  ; 
my  sketch  is  a  simple  statement  of  facts,  which  I  hope  will 
amuse  some  of  my  readers. 

Lieutenant  T related  the  incidents  of  the  trip  with  cheer 
ful  laughter,  and  wound  up  by  saying,  as  he  sat  by  the  blazing 
fire  in  my  tent : 

"  I  tell  you,  I  am  glad  to  get  back  here,  Captain  !  " 


II. 

HOW  I  WAS  ARRESTED. 


I  WAS  sitting  in  my  tent  one  day  in  the  year  1863,  idly  gazing 
over  a  newspaper,  when  my  eye  fell  upon  the  following  para 
graph  : 

"Killed  on  the  Blackwater. — We  learn  that  Captain  Edelin,  of 
the  old  First  Maryland  Eegiment,  but  who  recently  joined  the 
Confederate  forces  in  North  Carolina,  was  killed  a  few  days  since 
in  a  skirmish  on  the  Blackwater." 

I  laid  down  the  paper  containing  this  announcement,  and 
speedily  found  myself  indulging  in  reverie. 

"Thus  fall,"  I  murmured,  "from  the  rolls  of  mortality  the 
names  we  have  known,  uttered,  been  familiar  with  !  The  beings 
with  whom  we  are  thrown,  whose  hands  we  touch,  whose  voices 
we  hear,  who  smile  or  frown  as  the  spirit  moves  them,  are  to-mor 
row  beyond  the  stars.  They  are  extinguished  like  the  fitful 
and  wandering  fires  of  evening — like  those  will-o'-wisps  which 
dance  for  an  hour  around  the  fields  and  then  disappear  in  the 
gathering  darkness !  " 

This  "Captain  Edelin,  of  the  old  First  Maryland  Eegiment," 
I  had  chanced  to  know.  It  was  but  a  moment — his  face  passed 
before  me  like  a  dream,  never  more  to  return  ;  but  reading  that 
paragraph  announcing  his  death  recalled  him  to  me  clearly  as  I 
saw  and  talked  with  him  one  night  on  the  outpost,  long  ago. 

Captain  Edelin  once  arrested  me  at  my  own  request. 


334  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

Let  me  recall  in  detail,  the  incidents  which  led  to  this  acquaint 
ance  with  him. 

It  was,  I  think,  in  December,  1861. 

I  was  at  that  time  Volunteer  A.  D.  C.  to  General  Stuart  of  the 
cavalry.,  and  was  travelling  from  Leesburg  to  his  headquarters, 
which  were  on  the  "Warrenton  road,  between  Fairfax  and  Centre- 
ville. 

I  travelled  in  a  light  one-horse  vehicle,  an  unusual  mode  of  con 
veyance  for  a  soldier,  but  adopted  for  the  convenience  it  afforded 
me  in  transporting  my  blankets,  clothes,  sword,  and  other  personal 
effects,  which  would  certainly  have  sunk  a  horseman  fathoms 
deep  in  the  terrible  mud  of  the  region,  there  to  remain  like  the 
petrified  Koman  sentinel  dug  out  from  Pompeii. 

The  vehicle  in  question  was  drawn  by  a  stout  horse,  who  was 
driven  by  a  cheerful  young  African  ;  and  achieving  an  ultimate 
triumph  over  the  Gum  Spring  road,  we  debouched  into  the 
Little  River  turnpike,  and  came  past  the  "  Double  Toll-gate  '"  to 
the  Frying  Pan  road. 

Here  the  first  picket  halted  me.  But  the  Lieutenant  of  the 
picket  took  an  intelligent  view  of  things,  and  suffered  me  to 
continue  the  road  to  Centreville. 

Toward  that  place,  accordingly,  I  proceeded,  over  the  before- 
mentioned  "  Frying  Pan,"  which,  like  the  "  Charles  City  road  " 
below  Richmond,  means  anything  you  choose. 

Night  had  fully  set  in  by  the  time  I  reached  Meacharn's,  a 
mile  from  Centreville  ;  and  I  then  remembered  for  the  first  time 
that  general  orders  forbade  the  entrance  of  carriages  of  any 
description  into  the  camp. 

This  general  order,  in  its  special  application  to  myself,  was 
disagreeable.  In  fact,  it  was  wanton  cruelty,  and  for  the  follow 
ing  good  reasons. 

1.  I  was  tired  and  hungry. 

2.  That  was  my  route  to  the  headquarters  I  sought. 

.  By  any  other  road  I  should  arrive  too  late  for  supper. 
This  reasoning  appeared  conclusive,  but  there  was  the  inexora 
ble  order ;  and  some  method  of  flanking  Centreville  must  be 
devised. 


HOW   I   WAS  ARRESTED.  335 

The  method  presented  itself  in  a  road  branching  off  to  the  left, 
which  I  immediately  turned  into.  A  small  house  presented 
itself,  and  inquiring  the  way,  I  was  informed  by  a  cheerful-look 
ing  matron  that  the  road  in  question  was  the  very  one  which 
"  led  to  the  turnpike." 

Never  did  Delphic  oracle  make  a  more  truthful  or  a  falser 
announcement.  It  was  the  Warrenton  turnpike  which  I  desired 
to  reach  by  flanking  Centreville,  and  cutting  off  the  angle — and 
lo !  with  a  cheerful  heart.  I  was  journeying,  as  will  be  seen,  to 
ward  other  regions ! 

The  vehicle  proceeded  on  its  way  without  farther  pause, 
merrily  gliding  along  the  forest  road  between  dusky  pine 
thickets,  the  heart  of  the  wandering  soldier  inspired  by  the  vision 
of  an  early  supper. 

The  evening  was  mild  for  December — the  heavens  studded 
with  stars.  Now  that  I  had  found  the  road,  and  would  soon 
arrive,  the  landscape  became  picturesque  and  attractive. 

Lonely  cavalrymen  appeared  and  disappeared ;  scrutinizing 
eyes  reconnoitred  the  suspicious  vehicle  as  it  passed ;  noises  of 
stamping  horses  were  heard  in  the  depths  of  the  thicket.  But 
accustomed  to  these  sights  and  sounds,  the  adventurous  traveller 
in  search  of  lodging  and  supper  did  not  disquiet  himself. 

Mile  after  mile  was  thus  traversed.  Still  the  interminable  road 
through  the  pines  stretched  on  and  on.  Its  terminus  seemed  as 
distant  as  the  crack  of  doom. 

Most  mysterious  of  mysteries !  The  Warrenton  turnpike  did 
not  appear,  though  I  knew  it  was  but  a  mile  or  two  through  to  it. 
Where  was  it  ?  Had  it  disappeared  under  the  influence  of  some 
enchantment  ?  Had  I  dreamed  that  I  knew  the  country  thorough 
ly,  from  having  camped  there  so  long,  and  had  I  never  in  reality 
visited  it  ?  It  so  appeared ;  I  was  certainly  travelling  over  a 
road  which  I  had  never  before  traversed. 

One  resource  remained — philosophy.  To  that  I  betook  my 
self.  When  a  traveller  of  philosophic  temperament  finds  that  he 
has  lost  his  way,  he  is  apt  to  argue  the  matter  with  cheerful  logic 
as  follows : 

1.  The  road  I  am  following  must  lead  somewhere. 


336  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

2.  At  that  "  somewhere,"  which  I  am  sure  eventually  to  reach, 
I  shall  find  some  person  who  will  have  the  politeness  to  inform 
me  in  what  part  of  the  globe  I  am. 

Having  recourse  to  this  mode  of  reasoning,  I  proceeded  through 
the  pines  with  a  cheerful  spirit,  entered  a  large  field  through 
which  the  road  ran,  and  at  the  opposite  extremity  "  stumbled  on 
a  stationary  voice." 

This  voice  uttered  the  familiar 

"Halt!     Who  goes  there?" 

"  Friend  without  the  countersign." 

"  Advance,  friend !  " 

I  jumped  out  and  walked  to  the  voice,  which  remained  sta 
tionary. 

"  I  am  going  to  General  Stuart's  headquarters.  Came  from 
Leesburg  and  have  no  countersign.  This  is  a  picket  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Where  is  the  officer  of  the  picket  ?  " 

"  At  the  fire  yonder.     I  will  go  with  you." 

"  Then  you  are  not  the  sentinel  ?  " 

"  No  ;  the  serjeant." 

And  the  serjeant  and  myself  walked  amicably  towards  the 
picket  fire,  which  was  burning  under  a  large  tree,  just  on  the 
side  of  the  turnpike. 

The  turnpike !     Alas ! 

But,  as  the  novelists  say,  "  let  us  not  anticipate." 


II. 

At  the  picket  fire  I  found  half-a-dozen  men,  neatly  dressed 
in  Confederate  gray. 

"  Which  is  the  officer  of  the  picket  ?  "  I  said  to  the  Serjeant. 

"  The  small  man— Captain  Edelin." 

As  he  spoke  Captain  Edelin  advanced  to  the  foreground  of  the 
picture,  and  the  ruddy  firelight  gave  me,  at  a  glance,  an  idea  of 
the  worthy. 

He  was  about  five  feet  six  inches  high,  with  a  supple  figure — 


HOW   I  WAS  ARRESTED.  337 

legs  bent  like  those  of  a  man  who  rides  much — and  a  keen  pair 
of  eyes,  which  roved  restlessly.  His  boots  reached  to  the  knee ; 
an  enormous  sword  clattered  against  them  as  he  walked.  The 
worthy  Captain  Edelin  was  no  bad  representative  of  Captain 
D'Artagnan,  the  hero  of  Dumas'  "  Three  Guardsmen." 

When  the  Captain  fixed  his  eyes  upon  me,  he  seemed  to  aim 
at  reading  me  through.  When  he  questioned  me  he  evidently 
scrutinized  my  words  carefully,  and  weighed  each  one. 

Such  a  precaution  was  not  unreasonable.  The  period  was 
critical,  the  time  "  dangerous."  Our  generals  entertained  well 
grounded  fears  that  the  enemy  designed  a  flank  movement  on  Cen 
tre  ville,  up  this  very  road,  either  to  attack  Johnston  and  Beau- 
regard's  left,  or  to  cut  off  Evans  at  Leesburg,  and  destroy  him 
before  succour  could  reach  him.  I  was  personally  cognizant  of 
the  fact  that  General  Evans  suspected  such  an  attack,  from  con 
versation  with  him  in  Leesburg,  and  was  not  surprised  to  find, 
as  I  soon  did,  that  the  road  over  which  the  enemy  must  advance 
to  assail  him  was  heavily  picketed  all  along  its  extent  in  the 
direction  of  Fairfax. 

If  this  "situation  "  be  comprehended  by  the  reader,  he  will 
not  fail  to  understand  why  the  Captain  scrutinized  me  closely. 
I  was  a  stranger  to  him,  had  passed  through  the  Confederate 
lines,  and  was  now  far  to  the  front.  If  1  was  in  the  Federal  ser 
vice  I  had  learned  many  things  which  would  interest  General 
McClellan.  Spies  took  precautions  in  accommodating  their 
dress  and  entire  appearance  to  the  role  they  were  to  play ;  and 
why  might  I  not  be  a  friend  of  his  Excellency  President  Lincoln, 
wearing  a  Confederate  uniform  for  the  convenience  of  travelling? 

So  Captain  Edelin  scanned  me  with  great  attention,  his  eyes 
trying  to  plunge  to  the  bottom  of  my  breast,  and  drag  forth  some 
imaginary  plot  against  the  cause. 

Being  an  old  soldier  of  some  months'  standing,  and  experienc 
ing  the  pangs  of  hunger,  I  rapidly  came  to  the  point.  Some 
thing  like  the  following  dialogue  passed  between  us  : 

"  Captain  Edelin,  officer  of  the  picket  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  returned  the  worthy,  with  a  look  which  said,  as 
plainly  as  any  words,  u  Who  are  you  ?  " 

22 


338  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

I  responded  to  the  mute  appeal : 

"  I  am  Aide  to  General  Stuart,  and  in  search  of  his 
headquarters.  I  have  no  countersign.  I  left  Leesburg  this 
morning,  and  to-night  lost  my  way.  What  road  is  that  -yon 
der?" 

"  The  Little  Eiver  turnpike." 

"  The  Little  Eiver  turnpike  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

Then  it  all  flashed  on  my  bewildered  brain  !  I  had  missed 
the  road  which  cut  off  the  angle  at  Centreville,  had  taken  a 
wrong  one  in  the  dark,  and  been  travelling  between  the  two  turn 
pikes  towards  Fairfax,  until  chance  brought  me  out  upon  the 
Little  Eiver  road,  not  far  from  "  Chantilly." 

I  stood  for  a  moment  looking  at  the  Captain  with  stupefaction, 
and  then  began  to  laugh. 

"Good!  "  I  said.  "I  should  like  particularly  to  know  how 
I  got  here.  I  thought  I  knew  the  country  thoroughly,  and  that 
this  was  the  Warrenton  road." 

"  Which  way  did  you  come  ?  "  asked  the  Captain,  suspiciously. 

II  By  the  Frying  Pan  road.     I  intended  to  take  the  short  cut 
to  the  left  of  Centreville." 

"  You  have  come  three  or  four  miles  out  of  the  way." 

"  I  see  I  have — pleasant.  Well,  it  won't  take  'me  much 
longer  than  daylight  to  arrive,  I  suppose,  at  this  rate." 

The  Captain  seemed  to  relish  this  cheerful  view  of  the  subject, 
and  the  ghost  of  a  smile  wandered  over  his  face. 

"  How  far  is  it  to  General  Stuart's  headquarters  ?  "  I  asked  ; 
"  and  which  road  do  I  take  ?  " 

"That's  just  what  I  can't  tell  you." 

"  Well,  there's  no  difficulty  about  going  on,  I  suppose  ?  Here 
are  my  papers  ;  look  at  them." 

And  I  handed  them  to  him.  He  read  them  by  the  firelight, 
and  returning  them,  said  : 

u  That's  all  right,  Captain,  but — sorry— orders — unless  you 
have  the  countersign " 

"  The  countersign  !     But  you  are  going  to  give  me  that  ?  " 

The  Captain  shook  his  head. 


HOW   I   WAS  ARRESTED.  339 

"  Hang  it,  Captain,  you  don't  mean  to  say  you  have  the  heart 
to  keep  me  here  all  night  ?  " 

"  Orders  must  be  obeyed " 

"Why,  you  are  not  really  going  to  take  possession  of  me  ?  I 
don't  mind  it  for  myself,  as  I  have  my  blankets,  and  you  will 
give  me  some  supper ;  but  there's  my  horse  without  a  mouthful 
since  morning." 

"That's  bad;  but ' 

"  You  don't  know  me  ;  I  understand  you.  These  papers,  my 
uniform,  all  may  be  got  up  for  the  occasion ;  still " 

" That's  a  fact;  and  you  know  orders  are  orders.  On  duty — 
can't  know  anybody ;  and  I'd  like  to  see  the  man  that  can  catch 
Edelin  asleep.  My  boys  are  just  about  the  best  trained  fellows 
you  ever  saw,  and  can  see  in  the  dark." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  it.  Captain." 

"  Just  about  the  best  company  to  be  found." 

'  I  believe  you." 

This  cheerful  acquiescence  seemed  to  please  the  worthy. 

"  We're  on  picket  here,  and  a  mouse  couldn't  get  through." 

"  Exactly  ;  and  I  wouldn't  mind  staying  with  you  the  least  if 
I  had  some  supper." 

"  Sorry  you  didn't  come  a  little  sooner ;  I  could  have  given 
you  some." 

"See  what  I've  missed ;  and  after  travelling  all  day,  one  gets 
as  hungry  as  a  hawk.  I'm  afraid  General  Stuart's  supper  will 
be  eat  up  to  the  last  mouthful." 

'this  seemed  to  affect  the  Captain.  He  had  supped;  I,  his 
brother  soldier,  had  not. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,"  he  said,  "  I'll  pass  you  through  my 
picket,  but  you  can't  get  on  to-night.  Major  Wheat's  pickets 
are  every  ten  yards  along  the  turnpike,  and  it  would  take  you 
all  night  to  work  your  way." 

"  Cheerful." 

"  The  best  thing  is  to  stay  here." 

"  I'd  much  rather  get  on." 

"  But  I  can't  even  tell  you  the  road  to  turn  off  on.  I  have  no 
one  to  send." 


340  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

As  lie  spoke  an  idea  struck  me. 

"  What  regiment  is  yours,  Captain  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  The  First  Maryland— as  fine  a  regiment — " 

"Who's  your  Colonel?" 

"  Bradley  Johnson." 

"  Well,  arrest  rne,  and  take  me  to  him." 

The  Captain  laughed. 

11  That  loould  be  best,"  he  said.  "  The  Colonel's  head-quar 
ters  are  in  a  small  house  just  across  the  field.  I'll  go  with  you." 

So  we  set  out,  the  huge  sword  of  the  worthy  clattering  against 
his  tall  boots  as  he  strode  along.  On  the  way  he  related  at  con 
siderable  length  the  exploits  of  his  Maryland  boys,  and  renewed 
his  assurances  of  sympathy  with  my  supperless  condition — la 
menting  the  disappearance  of  his  own. 

In  fact,  I  may  say  with  modest  pride  that  I  had  conquered  the 
worthy  captain.  Eloquence  had  reaped  its  reward — had  had 
its  "  perfect  work."  From  frigid,  the  Captain  had  become  luke 
warm  ;  from  lukewarm,  quite  a  pleasant  glow  had  diffused  itself 
through  his  conversation.  Then  his  accents  had  become  even 
friendly  :  he  had  offered  me  a  part  of  his  Barmecide  supper,  and 
proposed  to  pass  me  through  his  picket. 

I  remember  very  well  his  short  figure  as  it  moved  beside  me ; 
his  gasconades  d  la  D'Artagnan ;  and  his  huge  sabre,  bobbing  as 
he  walked.  The  end  of  it  trailed  upon  the  ground — so  short 
was  the  Captain's  stature,  so  mighty  the  length  of  his  weapon. 

He  strode  on  rapidly,  talking  away ;  and  we  soon  approached 
a  small  house  in  the  middle  of  the  large  field,  through  whose 
window  a  light  shone. 

In  this  house  Colonel  Bradley  Johnson  had  established  his 
headquarters. 


III. 

The  Captain  knocked;  was  bidden  to  enter,  and  went  in— I 
following. 

"  A  prisoner,  Colonel,"  said  the  Captam, 


HOW  I  WAS  ARRESTED.  341 

"  Ah!  "  said  Colonel  Bradley  Johnson,  who  was  lying  on  his 
camp  bed. 

"  At  my  own  request,  Colonel." 

And  pulling  off  one  of  a  huge  pair  of  gauntlets,  I  stuck  a 
paper  at  him. 

Colonel  Johnson — than  whom  no  braver  soldier  or  more  de 
lightful  companion  exists— glanced  at  the  document,  then  at  me, 
and  made  me  a  bow. 

"  All  right.     From  Leesburg,  Captain  ?  " 

uYes,  sir." 

"Any  news?" 

"  None  at  all.     All  quiet." 

"  Are  you  going  to  General  Stuart's  headquarters  to-night?  " 

"  If  I  can  find  the  road." 

"  I  really  don't  know  it.     I  know  where  it  is,  but — 

"  It  will  be  necessary  to  send  me,  I  suppose,  Colonel  ?  " 

"  Necessary  ?  " 

"I  am  a  prisoner,  you  know,  and  I  think  General  Stuart  is  in 
command  of  the  outpost." 

The  Colonel  began  to  laugh. 

"  That's  true,"  he  said. 

And  turning  round,  he  uttered  the  word — 

"  Courier." 

Now  "  courier  "  was  evidently  the  designation  of  a  gentleman 
who  at  that  moment  was  stretching  himself  luxuriously  in  one 
corner  of  the  room,  drawing  over  his  head  a  large  white  blanket, 
with  the  air  of  a  man  who  has  finished  his  day's  work,  and  is 
about  to  retire  to  peaceful  and  virtuous  slumber. 

From  several  slight  indications,  it  was  obvious  that  the  courier 
had  just  returned  after  carrying  a  dispatch,  and  that  he  experi 
enced  to  its  fullest  extent  the  grateful  sensation  of  having  per 
formed  all  the  duty  that  could  be  expected  of  him,  and  regarded 
himself  as  legally  and  equitably  entitled  to  at  least  six  hours 
sleep,  in  the  fond  embrace  of  his  white  blanket. 

Alas  for  the  mutability  of  mundane  things! — the  unstable 
character  of  all  human  calculations  ! 

Even  as  he  dismounted,  and  took  off  his  saddle  for  the  night, 


342  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

Fate,  in  the  person  of  the  present  writer,  was  on  his  track.  As 
he  lay  down,  and  wrapped  himself  luxuriously  in  that  white 
blanket,  drawing  a  long  breath,  and  extending  his  limbs  with 
Epicurean  languor,  the  aforesaid  Fate  tapped  him  on  the  shoulder, 
and  bade  him  rise. 

"Courier!" 

And  the  head  rose  suddenly. 

"  Saddle  up,  and  go  with  this  gentleman  to  General  Stuart's 
headquarters." 

A  deep  sigh — almost  a  groan — a  slowly  rising  figure  rolling 
up  a  white  blanket,  and  this  most  unfortunate  of  couriers  dis 
appeared,  no  doubt  maligning  the  whole  generation  of  wander 
ing  aides-de-camp,  and  wishing  that  they  had  never  been  born. 

With  a  friendly  good-night  to  Colonel  Johnson,  whose  hard 
work  in  the  field  since  that  time  has  made  his  name  familiar  to 
every  one,  and  honourable  to  his  State,  I  returned  in  company 
with  Edelin  to  the  picket  fire. 

The  courier  disconsolately  followed. 

On  the  way  I  had  further  talk  with  Captain  Edelin,  and  I 
found  him  a  jovial  companion. 

When  I  left  him,  we  shook  hands,  and  that  is  the  first  time 
and  the  last  time  I  ever  saw  "  Captain  Edelin  of  the  old  First 
Maryland  Kegiment."  It  was  Monsieur  D'Artagnan  come  to 
life,  as  I  have  said ;  and  I  remembered  very  well  the  figure  of 
the  Captain  when  I  read  that  paragraph  announcing  his  death. 

He  was  a  Baltimorean,  and  I  have  heard  that  his  company  was 
made  up  in  the  following  manner: 

When  the  disturbances  took  place  in  Baltimore,  in  April, 
1861,  the  leaders  of  the  Southern  party  busied  themselves  in 
organizing  the  crowds  into  something  like  a  military  body,  and 
for  that  purpose  divided  them  into  companies,  aligning  them 
where  they  stood. 

A  company  of  about  one  hundred  men  was  thus  formed,  and 
the  person  who  had  counted  it  off  said : 

"  Who  will  command  this  company  ?  " 

Two  men  stepped  forward. 

"  I  can  drill  them,"  said  the  first. 


HOW  1  WAS  ARRESTED.  343 

"  I  have  been  through  the  Mexican  war.  I  can  fight  them," 
said  the  other. 

The  command  was  given  to  the  latter,  and  this  was  Edelin. 
When  the  war  commenced,  he  marched  his  company  out,  and 
joined  the  Southern  army. 

Poor  Edelin !  He  did  not  know  he  was  arresting  his  historian 
that  night  on  the  outpost ! 


IV. 

A  few  words  will  terminate  my  account  of  "  How  I  was  ar 
rested."  I  have  spoken  of  the  courier  supplied  me  by  Colonel 
Johnson,  and  this  worthy  certainly  turned  out  the  most  remark 
able  of  guides.  After  leaving  Captain  Edelin's  picket,  I  pro 
ceeded  along  the  turnpike  toward  Germantown — continuing  thus 
to  follow,  as  I  have  said,  the  very  road  I  had  travelled  over 
when  the  first  picket  stopped  me  at  the  mouth  of  the  "  Frying 
Pan." 

I  had  gone  round  two  sides  of  a  triangle  and  was  quietly  ad 
vancing  as  I  might  have  done  over  the  same  route ! 

There  was  this  disagreeable  difference,  however,  that  the  night 
was  now  dark ;  that  the  pickets  were  numerous  and  on  the  alert ; 
that  neither  I  nor  the  courier  knew  the  precise  point  to  turn  off; 
and  that  Wheat's  "  Tigers,"  then  on  picket,  had  an  eccentric  idea 
that  everybody  stirring  late  at  night,  at  such  a  time,  was  a 
Yankee,  and  to  be  fired  upon  instantly.  This  had  occurred  more 
than  once — they  had  shot  at  couriers — and  as  they  had  no  fires 
you  never  knew  when  a  picket  was  near. 

This  was  interesting,  but  not  agreeable.  To  have  a  friendly 
"  Tiger  "  regret  the  mistake  and  be  sorry  for  killing  you  is  some 
thing,  but  not  affecting  seriously  the  general  result. 

Such  appeared  to  be  the  view  taken  by  my  friend  the  courier. 
He  was  in  a  tremendous  state  of  excitement.  I  was  not  com 
posed  myself;  but  my  disquiet  was  connected  with  the  idea  of 
supper,  which  I  feared  would  be  over.  A  day's  fasting  had 
made  me  ravenous,  and  I  hurried  my  driver  constantly. 


344  WEARING   OF   THE   GRAY. 

This  proceeding  filled  my  friend  the  courier  with  dire  fore 
bodings.  He  several  times  rode  back  from  his  place  some  fifty 
yards  in  advance  to  beg  me  pathetically  to  drive  slower — he 
could  not  hear  the  challenge  if  I  drove  so  fast,  and  "  they  would 
shoot !  "  This  view  I  treated  with  scorn,  and  the  result  was, 
that  my  guide  was  nearly  beside  himself  with  terror. 

He  besought  me  to  be  prudent ;  but  as  his  idea  of  prudence 
was  to  walk  slowly  along,  listening  with  outstretched  neck  and 
eager  ears  for  the  challenge  of  the  pickets  from  the  shadow  of 
the  huge  trees,  and  to  shout  out  the  countersign  immediately 
upon  being  halted,  with  a  stentorian  voice  which  could  be  heard 
half  a  mile  ;  as  his  further  views  connected  with  the  proprieties 
of  the  occasion  seemed  to  imp'el  him  to  hold  long  and  confiden 
tial  conversations  with  the  "Tigers,"  to  the  effect  that  he  ancUI 
were,  in  the  fullest  sense  of  the  term,  "all  right;  "  that  I  was 
Aide  to  General  Stuart ;  that  I  had  come  that  day  from  Leesburg; 
that  I  had  lost  my  way  ;  that  I  was  not  a  suspicious  character ; 
that  he  was  in  charge  of  me — as  this  method  of  proceeding,  I  say, 
SQemed  to  constitute  the  prudence  which  he  urged  upon  me  so 
eloquently,  I  treated  his  remonstrances  and  arguments  with  rude 
and  hungry  disregard. 

Instead  of  waiting  quietly  while  he  palavered  with  the  senti 
nels,  I  broke  the  dialogue  by  the  rough  and  impolite  words  to 
the  sentinel : 

"  Do  you  know  the  road  which  leads  in  to  General  Stuart's 
headquarters  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Drive  on  ! " 

And  again  the  vehicle  rolled  merrily  along,  producing  a  terri 
ble  rattle  as  it  went,  and  filling  with  dismay  the  affrighted  cou 
rier,  who,  I  think,  gave  himself  up  for  lost. 

But  I  am  dwelling  at  too  great  length  upon  my  "  guide,  philo 
sopher,  and  friend,"  the  courier,  and  these  subsequent  details  of 
my  journey.  I  have  told  how  I  was  arrested — a  few  words  will 
end  my  sketch. 

We  soon  reached  the  Cl  Ox  Hill  Eoad,"  and  here  some  infor 
mation  was  obtained. 


HOW   I   WAS  ARRESTED.  345 

A  friendly  and  intelligent  "Tiger,"  with  a  strong  Irish  brogue, 
declared  that  this  was  the  route,  and  I  proceeded  over  a  horrible 
road  into  the  woods. 

A  mile  brought  me  to  camp  fires  and  troops  asleep — no  an 
swer  greeted  my  shout,  and,  getting  out  of  the  carriage,  I  went 
through  a  sort  of  abattis  of  felled  trees,  and  stirred  up  a  sleeper 
wrapped  to  the  nose  in  his  blanket. 

"  Which  is  the  road  to  General  Stuart's  headquarters?  "  I  asked. 

11  Don't  know,  sir." 

And  the  head  disappeared  under  the  blanket. 

"  What  regiment  is  this? " 

The  nose  re-appeared. 

"  Tigers." 

Then  the  blanket  was  wrapped  around  the  peaceful  Tiger, 
who  almost  instantly  began  to  snore. 

A  little  further  the  road  forked,  and  I  took  that  one  which 
led  toward  a  glimmering  light.  That  light  reached,  my  troubles 
ended.  It  was  the  headquarters  of  Major  Wheat,  who  poured 
out  his  brave  blood,  in  June,  1862,  on  the  Chickahominy,  and  I 
speedily  received  full  directions.  Ere  long  I  reached  Mellen's, 
my  destination,  in  time  for  supper,  as  well  as  a  hearty  welcome 
from  the  best  of  friends  and  generals. 

So  ends. my  story,  gentle  reader.  It  cannot  be  called  a  "  thrill 
ing  narrative,"  but  is  true,  which  is  something  after  all  in  these 
"  costermonger  times." 

At  least,  this  is  precisely  "  How  I  was  arrested." 


III. 

MOSBTS  RAID  INTO  FAIRFAX. 


i. 

AMONG  the  daring  partisans  of  the  war,  few  have  rendered  such 
valuable  services  to  the  cause  as  Captain  John  S.  Mosby. 

His  exploits  would  furnish  material  for  a  volume  which  would 
resemble  rather  a  fomance  than  a  true  statement  of  actual  occur 
rences.  He  has  been  the  chief  actor  in  so  many  raids,  encoun 
ters,  and  adventures,  that  his  memoirs,  if  he  committed  them  to 
paper,  would  be  regarded  as  the  efforts  of  fancy.  Fortunately, 
there  is  very  little  fancy  about  "  official  reports,"  which  deal  with 
naked  facts  and  figures,  and  those  reports  of  these  occurrences 
are  on  record. 

It  is  only  necessary  to  glance  at  the  Captain  to  understand 
that  he  was  cut  out  for  a  partisan  leader.  His  figure  is  slight, 
muscular,  supple,  and  vigorous ;  his  eye  is  keen,  penetrating, 
ever  on  the  alert ;  he  wears  his  sabre  and  pistol  with  the  air  of 
a  man  who  sleeps  with  them  buckled  around  his  waist  ]  and 
handles  them  habitually,  almost  unconsciously.  The  Captain  is 
a  determined  man  in  a  charge,  dangerous  on  a  scout,  hard  to 
outwit,  and  prone  to  "  turn  up  "  suddenly  where  he  is  least 
expected,  and  bang  away  with  pistol  and  carbine. 

His  knowledge  of  the  enemy's  character  is  extensive  and  pro 
found  ;  his  devices  to  deceive  them  are  rarely  unsuccessful. 
Take  in  proof  of  this  a  trifling  occurrence  some  fime  since,  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Warrenton.  The  enemy's  cavalry,  in  strong 
force,  occupied  a  position  in  front  of  the  command  which  Captain 


MOSBY'S  KAID  INTO  FAIRFAX.  347 

Mosby  accompanied.  Neither  side  bad  advanced,  and,  in  tbe 
lull  wbicb  took  place,  tbe  Captain  performed  the  following 
amusing  little  comedy :  taking  eight  or  ten  men,  he  deployed 
them  as  skirmishers  in  front  of  an  entire  brigade  of  tbe  enemy, 
and  at  a  given  signal  from  him,  they  advanced  steadily,  firing 
their  carbines  as  they  did  so,  without  further  intermission  than 
tbe  time  necessarily  spent  in  reloading.  This  manoeuvre  was 
executed  with  such  spirit  and  apparent  design  to  attack  in  force 
that  the  enemy  were  completely  taken  in.  As  the  sharpshooters 
advanced,  led  on  gallantly  by  the  Captain,  who  galloped  about 
cheering  his  imaginary  squadrons,  the  enemy  were  seized  with  a 
sudden  panic,  wavered,  and  gave  way,  thus  presenting  the  comic 
spectacle  of  an  entire  brigade  retiring  before  a  party  of  eight  or 
ten  sharpshooters. 

This  is  only  one  of  a  thousand  affairs  in  which  Captain  Mosby 
has  figured,  proving  himself  possessed  of  the  genius  of  a  true 
partisan.  If  I  could  here  relate  these  adventurous  occurrences, 
the  reader  would  soon  comprehend  how  steady  the  Captain's 
nerve  is,  how  ready  his  resources  in  an  emergency,  and  how 
daring  his  conception  and  execution.  For  the  present,  I  must 
contend  myself  with  one  recent  adventure,  prefacing  it  with  a 
statement  which  will  probably  throw  ^ome  light  upon  the 
motives  of  the  chief  actor,  and  the  feelings  which  impelled  him 
to  undertake  the  expedition. 

In  the  summer  of  1862,  Captain  Mosby  was  sent  from  Hano 
ver  Court-House  on  a  mission  to  General  Jackson,  who  was  then 
on  the  Upper  Kapidan.  He  was  the  bearer  of  an  oral  communi 
cation,  and  as  the  route  was  dangerous,  had  no  papers  about  him 
except  a  brief  note  to  serve  as  a  voucher  for  his  identity  and 
reliability.  With  this  note,  the  Captain  proceeded  on  his  jour 
ney,  and  stopping  at  Beaver  Dam  Station  on  the  Virginia  Cen- 
ral  Kailroad,  to  rest  and  feed  his  horse,  was,  while  quietly  sitting 
on  the  platform  at  the  depot,  surprised  and  bagged  by  a  detach 
ment  of  the  enemy's  cavalry. 

Now,  to  be  caught  thus  napping,  in  an  unguarded  moment,  was 
gall  and  wormwood  to  the  brave  Captain.  He  had  deceived  and 
outwitted  the  enemy  so  often,  and  had  escaped  from  their  clutches 


848  WEARING    OF   THE    GRAY. 

so  regularly  up  to  that  time,  that  to  find  himself  surprised  thus 
filled  him  with  internal  rage.  From  that  moment  his  sentiments 
toward  them  increased  in  intensity.  They  had  been  all  along 
decidedly  unfriendly — they  were  now  bitter.  They  took  him 
away  with  them,  searched  him,  appropriated  his  credentials,  pub 
lished  them  as  an  item  of  interest  in  the  Northern  papers,  and 
immured  the  partisan  in  the  Old  Capitol. 

In  due  course  of  time  he  was  exchanged.  He  returned  with  a 
handsome  new  satchel  and  an  increased  affection  for  his  friends 
across  the  way.  He  laughed  at  his  misfortunes,  but  set  down 
the  account  to  the  credit  of  the  enemy,  to  be  settled  at  a  more 
convenient  opportunity. 

Since  that  time  the  Captain  has  been  regularly  engaged  in 
squaring  his  account.  He  has  gone  to  work  with  a  thorough  air 
of  business.  Under  an  energy  and  perseverance  so  systematic 
and  undeviating  the  account  has  been  gradually  reduced,  item 
by  item. 

On  the  night  of  Sunday,  the  eighth  of  March,  1863,  it  may 
fairly  be  considered  that  the  account  was  discharged.  To  come 
to  the  narrative  of  the  event  alluded  to,  and  which  it  is  the 
design  of  this  paper  to  describe  : 

Previous  to  the  eighth  of  March  Captain  Mosby  had  put 
himself  to  much  trouble  to  discover  the  strength  and  positions  of 
the  enemy  in  Fairfax  county,  with  the  design  of  making  a  raid 
in  that  direction,  if  circumstances  permitted.  The  information 
brought  to  him  was  as  follows  :  On  the  Little  Eiver  turnpike  at 
Germantown,  a  mile  or  two  distant  from  Fairfax,  were  three 
regiments  of  the  enemy's  cavalry,  commanded  by  Colonel 
Wyndham,  Acting  Brigadier-General,  with  his  headquarters  at 
the  Court-House.  Within  a  few  hundred  yards  of  the  town 
were  two  infantry  regiments.  In  the  vicinity  of  Fairfax  Station, 
about  two  miles  off,  an  infantry  brigade  was  encamped.  And 
at  Centreville  there  was  another  infantry  brigade,  with  cavalry 
and  artillery. 

Thus  the  way  to  Fairfax  Court-House,  the  point  which  the 
Captain  desired  to  reach,  seemed  completely  blocked  up  with 
troops  of  all  arms— infantry,  artillery,  and  cavalry.  If  he 


MOSBY'S  RAID  INTO  FAIRFAX.  349 

attempted  to  approach'  'by  the  Little  Kiver  turnpike,  Colonel 
Wyndham'a  troopers  would  meet  him  full  in  front.  If  he  tried 
the  route  by  the  "Warrenton  turnpike,  a  brigade  of  infantry, 
with  cavalry  to  pursue  and  artillery  to  thunder  at  him,  was  first 
to  be  defeated.  If  he  glided  in  along  the  railroad,  the  brigade  at 
Fairfax  Station  was  in  his  track. 

The  "  situation"  would  have  appeared  desperate  to  almost  any 
one,  however  adventurous,  but  danger  and  adventure  had  attrac 
tions  for  Captain  Mosby.  If  the  peril  was  great  and  the  pro 
bability  of  success  slender,  all  the  greater  would  be  the  glory  if 
he  succeeded.  And  the  temptation  was  great.  At  Fairfax 
Court-House,  the  general  headquarters  of  that  portion  of  the 
army,  Brigadier-General  Stoughton  and  other  officers  of  high 
rank  were  then  known  to  be,  and  if  these  could  be  captured, 
great  would  be  his  triumph. 

In  spite  of  the  enormous  obstacles  which  presented  themselves 
in  his  path,  Captain  Mosby  determined  to  undertake  no  less  an 
enterprise  than  entering  the  town,  seizing  the  officers  in  their 
beds,  destroying  the  huge  quantities  of  public  stores,  and  bearing 
off  his  prisoners  in  triumph. 


n. 

The  night  of  Sunday,  March  8th,  was  chosen  as  favorable  to 
the  expedition.  The  weather  was  terrible — the  night  as  dark  as 
pitch — and  it  was  raining  steadily.  With  a  detachment  of 
twenty-nine  men  Captain  Mosby  set  out  on  his  raid. 

He  made  his  approach  from  the  direction  of  Aldie.  Proceed 
ing  down  the  Little  Kiver  turnpike,  the  main  route  from  the 
Court-House  to  the  mountains,  he  reached  a  point  within  about 
three  miles  of  Chantilly.  Here,  turning  to  the  right,  he  crossed 
the  Frying  Pan  road  about  half-way  between  Centreville  and  the 
turnpike,  keeping  in  the  woods,  and  leaving  Centreville  well  to 
the  right.  He  was  now  advancing  in  the  triangle  which  is  made 
by  the  Little  River  and  Warrenton  turnpikes  and  the  Frying 
Pan  road.  Those  who  are  familiar  with  the  country  there  will 


350  WEARING    OF  THE    GRAY. 

easily  understand  the  object  of  this  proceeding.  By  thus  cutting 
through  the  triangle,  Captain  Mosby  avoided  all  pickets,  scout 
ing  parties,  and  the  enemy  generally,  who  would  only  keep  a  look 
out  for  intruders  on  the  main  roads. 

Advancing  in  this  manner  through  the  woods,  pierced  with 
devious  and  uncertain  paths  only,  which  the  dense  darkness 
scarcely  enabled  them  to  follow,  the  partisan  and  his  little  band 
finally  struck  into  the  Warrenton  road,  between  Centreville  and 
Fairfax,  at  a  point  about  midway  between  the  two  places.  One 
danger  had  thus  been  successfully  avoided — a  challenge  from 
parties  of  cavalry  on  the  Little  River  road,  or  discovery  by  the 
force  posted  at  Centreville.  That  place  was  now  in  their  rear — 
they  had  "  snaked  "  around  it  and  its  warders  ;  but  the  perils^  of 
the  enterprise  had  scarcely  commenced.  Fairfax  Court-House 
was  still  about  four  miles  distant,  and  it  was  girdled  with  cavalry 
and  infantry.  Every  approach  was  guarded,  and  the  attempt  to 
enter  the  place  seemed  desperate,  but  the  Captain  determined  to 
essay  it. 

Advancing  resolutely,  he  came  within  a  mile  and  a  half  of  the 
place,  when  he  found  the  way  barred  by  a  heavy  force.  Direct 
ly  in  his  path  were  the  infantry  camps  of  which  he  had  been  noti 
fied,  and  all  advance  was  checked  in  that  direction.  The  Captain 
did  not  waver  in  his  purpose,  however.  Making  a  detour  to  the 
right,  and  leaving  the  enemy's  camp  far  to  his  left,  he  struck  into 
the  road  leading  from  Fairfax  southward  to  the  railroad. 

This  avenue  was  guarded  like  the  rest,  but  by  a  picket  only  ; 
and  the  Captain  knew  thoroughly  how  to  deal  with  these.  Be 
fore  the  sleepy  and  unsuspicious  pickets  were  aware  of  their  dan 
ger,  they  found  pistols  presented  at  their  heads,  with  the  option 
of  surrender  or  death  presented  to  them.  They  surrendered 
immediately,  were  taken  in  charge,  and  without  further  ceremony 
Captain  Mosby  and  his  band  entered  the  town. 

From  that  moment  the  utmost  silence,  energy,  and  rapidity  of 
action  were  requisite.  The  Captain  had  designed  reaching  the 
Court-House  at  midnight,  but  had  been  delayed  two  hours  by 
mistaking  his  road  in  the  pitch  darkness.  It  was  now  two  o'clock 
in  the  morning ;  and  an  hour  and  a  half,  at  the  very  utmost,  was 


351 

left  him  to  finish  his  business  and  escape  before  daylight.  If 
morning  found  him  anywhere  in  that  vicinity  he  knew  that  his 
retreat  would  be  cut  off,  and  the  whole  party  killed  or  captured 
— and  this  would  have  spoiled  the  whole  affair.  He  accordingly 
made  his  dispositions  rapidly,  enjoined  complete  silence,  and  set 
to  work  in  ea,rnest.  The  small  band  was  divided  into  detach 
ments,  with  special  duties  assigned  to  each.  Two  or  three  of 
these  detachments  were  sent  to  the  public  stables  which  the  fine 
horses  of  the  General  and  his  staff  officers  occupied,  with  instruc 
tions  to  carry  them  off  without  noise.  Another  party  was  sent  to 
Colonel  Wy  ndham's  headquarters  to  take  him  prisoner.  Another 
to  Colonel  Johnson's,  with  similar  orders. 

Taking  six  men  with  him,  Captain  Mosby,  who  proceeded 
upon  sure  information,  went  straight  to  the  headquarters  of 
Brigadier- General  Stoughton. 

The  Captain  entered  his  chamber  without  much  ceremony,  and 
found  him  asleep  in  bed. 

Making  his  way  toward  the  bed,  in  the  dark,  the  partisan 
shook  him  suddenly  by  the  shoulder. 

"What  is  that?  "  growled  the  General. 

"  Get  up  quick,  I  want  you,"  responded  the  Captain. 

"Do you  know  who  I  am?  "  cried  the  Brigadier,  sitting  up  in 
bed,  with  a  scowl.  "  I  will  have  you  arrested,  sir  !  " 

"  Do  you  know  who  /am  ?  "  retorted  the  Captain,  shortly. 

"Who  are  you?" 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  of  Mosby  ?  " 

"  Yes  !     Tell  me,  have  you  caught  the rascal!" 

"  No,  but  he  has  caught  you  !  " 

And  the  Captain  chuckled. 

"  What  does  all  this  mean,  sir !  "  cried  the  furious  offi 
cer. 

"It  means,  sir,"  the  Captain  replied,  "  that  Stuart's  cavalry  are 
in  possession  of  this  place,  and  you  are  my  prisoner.  Get  up  and 
come  along,  or  you  are  a  dead  man  !  " 

Bitter  as  was  this  order,  the  General  was  compelled  to  obey, 
and  the  partisan  mounted  him,  and  placed  him  under  guard. 
His  staff  and  escort  were  captured  without  difficulty,  but  two  of 


352  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

the  former,  owing  to  the  darkness  and  confusion,  subsequently 
made  their  escape. 

Meanwhile  the  other  detachments  were  at  work.  They  enter 
ed  the  stables,  and  led  out  fifty-eight  very  fine  horses,  with  their 
accoutrements,  all  belonging  to  officers,  and  took  a  number  of 
prisoners.  Hundreds  of  horses  were  left,  for  fear  of  encumbering 
the  retreat. 

The  other  parties  were  less  successful.  Colonel  Wyndham  had 
gone  down  to  Washington  on  the  preceding  day  ;  but  his  A.  A. 
General  and  Aide-de-camp  were  made  prisoners.  Colonel  Johnson 
having  received  notice  of  the  presence  of  the  party,  succeeded  in 
making  his  escape. 

It  was  now  about  half-past  three  in  the  morning,  and  it  be 
hoved  Captain  Mosby,  unless  he  relished  being  killed  or  cap 
tured,  to  effect  his  retreat.  Time  was  barely  left  him  to  get  out 
of  the  lines  of  the  enemy  before  daylight,  and  none  was  to  be 
lost. 

He  had  intended  to  destroy  the  valuable  quartermaster,  com 
missary,  and  sutler's  stores  in  the  place,  but  these  were  found  to 
be  in  the  houses,  which  it  would  have  been  necessary  to  burn  ; 
and  even  had  the  proceeding  been  advisable,  time  was  wanting. 
The  band  was  encumbered  by  three  times  as  many  horses  and 
prisoners  as  it  numbered  men,  and  day  was  approaching.  The 
captain  accordingly  made  his  dispositions  rapidly  for  retiring. 

The  prisoners,  thirty-five  in  number,  were  as  follows  : 

Brig.-Gen.  E.  H.  Stoughton. 

Baron  E.  Wordener,  an  Austrian,  and  Aide-de-camp  to  Col. 
Wyndham. 

Capt.  A.  Barker,  5th  New  York  Cavalry. 

Col.  Wyndham's  A.  A.  General. 

Thirty  prisoners,  chiefly  of  the  18th  Pennsylvania  and  1st 
Ohio  Cavalry,  and  the  telegraph  operator  at  the  place. 

These  were  placed  upon  the  captured  horses,  and  the  band  set 
out  in  silence  on  their  return. 

Captain  Mosby  took  the  same  road  which  had  conducted  him 
into  the  Couit-H  use:  that  which  led  to  Fairfax  Station.  But 
this  was  only  to  deceive  the  enemy  as  to  his  line  of  retreat,  if 


MOSBY'S  RAID  INTO  FAIRFAX.  353 

they  attempted  pursuit.  He  soon  turned  off,  and  pursued  the 
same  road  which  he  had  followed  in  advancing,  coming  out  on 
the  Warrcntoii  turnpike,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  from  the 
town.  This  time,  finding  no  guards  on  the  main  road,  he  con 
tinued  to  follow  the  tuinpike  until  he  came  to  the  belt  of  woods 
which  crosses  the  road  about  half  a  mile  from  Centreville.  At 
this  point  of  the  march,  one  of  the  prisoners,  Captain  Barker, 
no  doubt  counting  on  aid  from  the  garrison,  made  a  desperate 
effort  to  effect  his  escape.  He  broke  from  his  guards,  dashed 
out  of  the  ranks,  and  tried  hard  to  reach  the  fort  He  was 
stopped,  however,  by  a  shot  from  one  of  the  party,  and  returned 
again,  yielding  himself  a  prisoner. 

Again  turning  to  the  right,  the  Captain  proceeded  on  his  way, 
passing  directly  beneath  the  frowning  fortifications.  He  passed 
so  near  them  that  he  distinctly  saw  the  bristling  muzzles  of  the 
cannon  in  the  embrasures,  and  was  challenged  by  the  sentinel 
on  the  redoubt.  Making  no  reply  he  pushed  on  rapidly,  for  the 
day  was  dawning,  and  no  time  was  to  be  lost ;  passed  within  a 
hundred  yards  of  the  infantry  pickets  without  molestation,  swam 
Cub  Eun,  and  again  came  out  on  the  Warrenton  turnpike  at 
Groveton. 

He  had  passed  through  all  his  enemies,  flanked  Centreville, 
was  on  the  open  road  to  the  South  :  he  was  safe ! 


23 


IV. 
MY  FRIEND  LIEUTENANT  BUMPO. 


YESTERDAY  I  received  a  letter  from  my  friend  Lieutenant  N". 
Bumpo,  Artillery  Corps,  P.  A.  C.  S.  To-day  I  have  been 
thinking  of  the  career  of  this  young  gentleman  from  the  outset 
of  the  war. 

" Kepresentative  men"  are  profitable  subjects  for  reflection. 
They  embody  in  their  single  persons,  the  characteristics  of  whole 
classes. 

Bumpo  is  a  representative  man. 

He  represents  the  Virginia  youth  who  would  not  stay  at  home, 
in  spite  of  every  attempt  to  induce  him  to  do  so ;  who,  shoul 
dering  his  musket,  marched  away  to  the  wars  ;  who  has  put  his 
life  upon  the  hazard  of  the  die  a  thousand  times,  and  intends  to 
go  on  doing  so  to  the  end. 

I  propose  to  draw  an  outline  of  Lieutenant  Bumpo.  The 
sketch  shall  be  accurate ;  so  accurate  that  he  will  be  handed 
down  to  future  generations — even  as  he  lived  and  moved  during 
the  years  of  the  great  revolution.  His  grandchildren  shall  thus 
know  all  about  their  at  present  prospective  grandpa— -and  all  his 
descendants  shall  honour  him.  His  portrait  over  the  mantel 
piece  shall  be  admiringly  indicated,  uno  digito.  The  antique  cut 
of  his  uniform  shall  excite  laughter.  Bumpo  will  live  in  every 
heart  and  memory ! 

He  is  now  seventeen  and  a  half.  Tall  for  his  age ;  gay,  smil 
ing;  fond  of  smoking,  laughing,  and  "fun"  generally.  I  have 
said  that  he  is  an  officer  of  the  Artillery  Corps,  at  present — but 
he  has  been  in  the  infantry  and  the  cavalry. 


MY   FRIEND   LIEUTENANT  BUMPO.  355 

lie  was  born  in  the  Valley  of  Virginia,  and  spent  his  youth 
in  warring  on  partridges.  His  aim  thus  early  became  unerring. 
When  the  war  broke  out  it  found  him  a  boy  of  some  fifteen  and 
a  half— loving  all  manlpnd,  except  the  sons  of  the  famous  "Pil 
grim  Fathers."  Upon  this  subject  Bumpo  absorbed  the  views 
of  his  ancestors. 

April,  1861,  arrived  duly.  Bumpo  was  in  the  ranks  with  a 
rifle.  Much  remonstrance  and  entreaty  saluted  this  proceeding, 
but  Private  Bumpo,  of  the  "  —  -  Eifles,"  remained  obstinate. 

"  Young  ?  "     Why  he  was  FIFTEEN  ! 

"The  seed  corn  should  be  kept?"  But  suppose  there  was 
no  Southern  soil  to  plant  it  in  ? 

"  A  mere  boy  ?  "—Boy  ! ! ! 

And  Private  Bumpo  stalked  off  with  his  rifle  on  his  shoulder 
— outraged  as  Coriolanus,  who,  after  having  "  fluttered  theVolsces 
in  Corioli,"  was  greeted  with  the  same  opprobrious  epithet. 

Obstinacy  is  not  a  praiseworthy  sentiment  in  youth,  but  I 
think  that  young  Bumpo  was  right.  He  would  have  died  of 
chagrin  at  home,  with  his  comrades  in  the  service ;  or  his  pride 
and  spirit  of  haute  noblesse  would  have  all  departed.  It  was 
better  to  run  the  risk  of  being  killed. 

So  Bumpo  marched. 

He  marched  to  Harper's  Ferry — and  thenceforth  "  Forward — 
march  !  "  was  the  motto  of  his  youthful  existence. 

Hungry  ? — "  Forward,  march  !  " 

Cold  ?— "  Forward,  march  !  " 

Tired?— "Forward,  march  !  " 

Bumpo  continued  thenceforth  to  march.  When  not  marching 
he  was  fighting. 

The  officer  who  commanded  his  brigade  was  a  certain  Colonel 
Jackson,  afterwards  known  popularly  as  "  Old  Stonewall."  This 
officer  could  not  bear  Yankees,  and  this  tallied  exactly  with 
Private  Bumpo's  views.  He  deeply  sympathized  with  the  sen 
timents  of  his  illustrious  leader,  and  loaded  and  fired  with 
astonishing  rapidity  and  animation.  At  "  Falling  Water "  he 
"  fought  and  fell  back."  Thereafter  he  marched  back  and  forth, 
and  was  on  the  Potomac  often.  A  slight  historic  anecdote  re- 


353  WEARING   OF   THE   GRAY. 

mains  of  this  period  in  the  Bumpo  annals.  He  was  on  picket 
near  the  river  bank  with  a  friend  of  ours,  when  suddenly  an  old 
woman,  of -hag-like,  Macbeth-witch  appearance,  came  in  view  on 
the  opposite  bank,  gesticulating  violently  to  hidden  observers 
that  yonder  were  the  Rebels !  The  friend  of  our  youth,  in  a 
jocose  spirit,  fired,  as  he  said,  ahead  of  the  old  hag  to  frighten 
her— or  behind,  to  put  a  ball  through  her  flying  skirts — but 
Bumpo  upbraided  him  with  his  bloody  real  intentions.  We  re 
gret  to  say,  however,  that  he  afterwards  retired  behind  a  tree 
and  indulged  in  smothered  laughter  as  the  Macbeth-witch  disap 
peared  with  floating  robes  toward  her  den. 

From  the  Valley,  Private  Bumpo  proceeded  rapidly  to  Ma- 
nassas,  where  he  took  part  in  the  thickest  of  the  fight,  anc^was 
bruised  by  a  fragment  of  shell.  Here  he  killed  his  first  man. 
His  cousin,  Carey ,  fell  at  his  side,  and  Bumpo  saw  the  sol 
dier  who  shot  him,  not  fifty  yards  off.  He  levelled  his  rifle,  and 
put  a  ball  through  his  breast.  He  went  down,  and  Bumpo  says 
with  laughter,  "  I  killed  him  !" 

He  was  starved  like  all  of  us  at  Manassas,  and  returning  to 
the  Valley  continued  to  have  short  rations.  He  fought  through 
all  the  great  campaigns  there,  and  wore  out  many  pairs  of  shoes 
in  the  ranks  of  the  Foot  Cavalry.  At  Kernstown  he  had  just 
fired  his  gun,  and  as  he  exclaimed  "By  George!  I  got  him  that 
time! "  received  a  ball  which  tore  his  coat-sleeve  to  pieces,  and 
numbed  his  wrist  considerably.  He  regards  himself  as  fortunate, 
however,  and  says  Kernstown  was  as  hot  as  any  fight  he  has 
seen.  Thereafter,  more  marching.  He  had  been  back  to  the 
Fairfax  country,  where  I  saw  him  two  or  three  times— and  now 
traversed  the  Valley  again.  The  Rornney  march,  he  says,  was 
a  hard  one  ;  no  blankets,  no  rations,  no  fire,  but  a  plenty  of 
snow.  I  saw  him  on  his  return  at  Winchester,  and  compared 
notes.  The  weather  was  bad,  but  Bumpo's  spirits  good.  He 
had  held  on  to  his  musket,  remaining  a  high  private  in  the  rear 
rank. 

Some  of  these  days  he  will  tell  his  grandchildren,  if  he  lives, 
all  about  the  days  when  he  followed  Commissary  Banks  about, 
and  revelled  in  the  contents  of  his  wagons.  Altogether  they 


MY  FKIEND   LIEUTENANT  BUMPO.  '    357 

had  a  jovial  time,  in  spite  of  snow  and  hanger  and  weari 
ness. 

The  days  hurried  on,  and  Port  Kepublic  was  fought.  Private 
Bumpo  continued  to  carry  his  musket  about.  He  had  now  seen 
a  good  deal  of  Virginia — knew  the  Valley  by  heart — was  ac 
quainted  with  the  very  trees  and  wayside  stones  upon  the  high 
ways.  Kiding  with  me  since,  he  has  recalled  many  tender 
memories  of  these  objects.  Under  that  tree  there,  he  lay  down 
to  rest  in  the  shade  on  a  hot  July  day.  On  that  stone  he  sat, 
overcome  with  weariness,  one  afternoon  of  snowy  December. 
There's  the  road  we  fell  back  on !  Yonder  is  the  hollow  where 
we  advanced !  Consequent  conclusion  on  the  part  of  Private 
Bumpo  that  he  has  graduated  in  the  geography  of  that  portion 
of  his  native  State. 

The  lowland  invited  him  to  visit  its  sandy  roads,  after  Cross 
Keys.  The  stones  of  the  Valley  were  exchanged  for  the  swampy 
soil  of  the  Chickahominy. 

On  the  morning  of  the  battle  of  Cold  Harbour,  I  saw  a  bri 
gade  in  the  pine  woods  as  I  passed,  and  inquiring  what  one  it 
was,  found  it  was  Bumpo's.  I  found  the  brave  youth  in  charm 
ing  spirits  as  ever ;  and  surrounded  by  his  good  comrades,  lying 
on  the  pine-tags,  he  told  me  many  things  in  brief  words. 

Bumpo,  like  his  brave  companions,  had  the  air  of  the  true 
soldier — cheerful,  prone  to  jest,  and  ready  for  the  fray.  He  was 
clad  in  gray,  or  rather  brown,  for  the  sun  had  scorched  his  good 
old  uniform  to  a  dingy  hue — and  the  bright  eyes  of  the  young 
gentleman  looked  at  you  from  beneath  an  old  drab-coloured  hat. 
Bumpo,  I  think,  had  an  irrational  admiration  for  that  hat,  and,  I 
remember,  liked  his  black  "  Yankee  "  haversack.  I  had  a  fine 
new,  shiny  one  which  I  had  purchased,  at  only  fifteen  times  its 
original  cost,  from  a  magnanimous  shop-keeper  of  Kichmond ; 
and  this  I  offered  to  Bumpo.  But  he  refused  it — clinging  to  his 
plainer  and  better  one,  but  slenderly  stocked  with  crackers. 

Suddenly  the  drum  rolled.     Bumpo  shouldered  his  musket. 

"  Fall  in  !  " 

And  the  brigade  was  on  its  march  again. 

Poor  Colonel  A !   I  pressed  your  hand  that  day,  for  "  the 


358  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

first  time  and  the  last  time !  "  Your  face  was  kind  and  smiling 
as  you  told  me  you  would  always  b£  glad  to  see  me  at  your 
camp — but  four  hours  afterwards  it  was  cold  in  death.  The  fatal 
ball  had  pierced  your  breast,  and  your  heart's  blood  dyed  that 
hard-fought  field  with  its  crimson. 

Such  are  the  experiences  of  a  soldier. 

The  battle  was  already  raging — the  brigade  rapidly  ap 
proached.  They  arrived  in  time — the  order  passed  along  the 
line — the  corps  of  General  Jackson  went  in  with  colours  flying. 

"Yesterday  was  the  most  terrific  fire  of  musketry  I  ever 
heard." 

Such  were  the  words  of  General  Jackson  an  hour  past  mid- 
night. 

On  that  succeeding  morning,  I  set  out  to  find  Corporal  Bumpo 
— for  to  this  rank  he  had  been  promoted.  I  met  General  Jack 
son  on  the  way,  his  men  cheering  the  hero,  and  ascertaining  from 
him  the  whereabouts  of  the  brigade,  proceeded  thither. 

Corporal  Bumpo  smiling  and  hungry — a  cheerful  sight.  He 
was  occupied  in  stocking  his  old  haversack  with  biscuits — excel 
lent  ones.  They  had  been  sent  to  an  officer  of  the  command, 
but  he  was  killed;  and  his  comrades  divided  them.  Corporal 
Bumpo  had  charged,  with  his  company,  at  sundown,  near  the 
enemy's  battery,  on  their  extreme  right.  A  piece  of  shell  had 
bruised  him,  and  a  ball  cut  a  breast  button  of  his  coat  in  two. 
The  under  side  remained,  with  the  name  of  the  manufacturer 
still  legibly  stamped  thereon.  Magnanimous  foes  !  They  never 
interfere  with  "business."  That  button  was  an  "advertising 
medium" — and  even  in  the  heat  of  battle  they  respected  it. 

Corporal  Burnpo  ought  to  have  preserved  that  jacket  as  a 
memorial  of  other  days,  for  the  honours  of  age.  But  its  faded 
appearance  caused  him  to  throw  it  away,  part  company  with  a 
good  old  friend.  What  matter  if  it  was  discoloured,  Bumpo  ? 
It  had  sheltered  you  for  many  months.  You  had  lain  down  in 
it  on  the  pine-tags  of  the  valley  and  the  lowlands,  in  the  days  of 
July,  and  the  nights  of  January  ;  on  the  grass  and  in  the  snow ; 
with  a  gay  heart  or  a  sad  one,  beating  under  it.  I  do  not  recog 
nise  you,  Corporal,  in  this  wanton  act — for  do  not  all  the  mem- 


MY   FRIEND   LIEUTENANT   BUMPO.  359 

bers  of  the  family  adhere  to  old  friends?  The  jacket  may  have 
been  sun-embrowned,  but  so  is  the  face  of  an  old  comrade. 
Lastly,  it  was  not  more  brown  than  that  historic  coat  which  the 
immortal  Jackson  wore — whereof  the  buttons  have  been  taken 
off  by  fairy  hands  instead  of  bullets. 

After  Cold  Harbour,  Corporal  Bumpo  began  marching  again 
as  usual.  Tramping  through  the  Chickahominy  low-grounds, 
he  came  with  his  company  to  Malvern  Hill,  and  was  treated 
once  more  to  that  symphony — an  old  tune  now — the  roar  of  can 
non.  The  swamp  air  had  made  him  deadly  sick — him,  the 
mountain  born — and,  he  says,  he  could  scarcely  stand  up,  and 
was  about  to  get  into  an  ambulance.  But  well  men  were  doing 
so,  and  the  soul  of  Bumpo  revolted  from  the  deed.  He  gripped 
his  musket  with  obstinate  clutch,  and  stayed  where  he  was — 
shooting  as  often  as  possible.  We  chatted  about  the  battle  when 
I  rode  to  see  him,  in  front  of  the  gunboats,  in  Charles  City  ;  and, 
though  "  poorly,"  the  Corporal  was  gay  and  smiling.  He  had 
got  something  to  eat,  and  his  spirits  had  consequently  risen. 

"  Fall  in !  "  came  as  we  were  talking,  and  Bumpo  marched. 

Soon  thereafter,  I  met  the  Corporal  in  the  city  of  Eichmond, 
whither  he  had  come  on  leave.  I  was  passing  through  the 
Capitol  Square,  when  a  friendly  voice  hailed  me,  and  behold ! 
up  hastened  Bumpo  !  He  was  jacketless,  but  gay  ;  possessor  of 
a  single  shirt,  but  superior  to  all  the  weaknesses  of  an  absurd 
civilization.  We  went  to  dine  with  some  elegant  lady  friends, 
and  I  offered  the  Corporal  a  black  coat.  He  tried  it  on,  survey 
ed  himself  in  the  glass,  and,  taking  it  off,  said,  with  cheerful 
naivete,  that  he  believed  he  would  "  go  so."  I  applauded  this 
soldierly  decision,  and  I  know  the  fair  dames  liked  the  young 
soldier  all  the  better  for  it.  I  think  they  regarded  his  military 
"  undress  "  as  more  becoming  than  the  finest  broadcloth.  The 
balls  of  the  enemy  had  respected  that  costume,  and  the  lovely 
girls,  with  the  brave,  true  hearts,  seemed  to  think  that  they  ought 
to,  too. 

I  linger  too  long  in  these  by-ways  of  the  Corporeal  biography, 
but  remember  that  I  write  for  the  gay  youth's  grandchildren. 
They  will  not  listen  coldly  to  these  little  familiar  details. 


360  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

From  Eichmond  the  Corporal  marched  northward  again. 
This  time  he  was  destined  to  traverse  new  regions.  The  Eapi- 
dan  invited  him,  and  he  proceeded  thither,  and,  as  usual,  got  into 
a  battle  immediately.  He  says  the  enemy  pressed  hard  at  Cedar 
mountain,  but  when  Jackson  appeared  in  front,  they  broke  and 
fled.  The  Corporal  followed,  and  marched  after  them  through 
Culpeper ;  through  the  Eappahannock  too ;  and  to  Manassas. 
A  hard  fight  there  ;  two  hard  fights  ;  and  then  with  swollen  and 
bleeding  feet,  Bumpo  succumbed  to  fate,  and  sought  that  haven 
of  rest  for  the  weary  soldier — a  wagon  not  until  he  had  his  sur 
geon's  certificate,  however;  and  with  this  in  his  pocket,  the  Cor 
poral  went  home  to  rest  a  while. 

I  think  this  tremendous  tramp  from  Winchester  to  Manassas, 
by  way  of  Eichmond,  caused  Corporal  Bumpo  to  reflect.  His 
feet  were  swollen,  and  his  mind  absorbed.  He  determined  to 
try  the  cavalry.  Succeeding,  with  difficulty,  in  procuring  a 
transfer,  he  entered  a  company  of  the  Cavalry  Division  under 
Major-General  Stuart,  whose  dashing  habits  suited  him ;  and  no 
sooner  had  he  done  so  than  his  habitual  luck  attended  him.  On 
the  second  day  he  was  in  a  very  pretty  little  charge  near  Aldie. 
The  Corporal — now  private  again — got  ahead  of  his  companions, 
captured  a  good  horse,  and  supplied  himself,  without  cost  to  the 
Confederate  States,  with  a  light,  sharp,  well  balanced  sabre. 
Chancing  to  be  in  his  vicinity  I  can  testify  to  the  gay  ardour 
with  which  the  ex-Corporal  went  after  his  old  adversaries,  no 
longer  on  foot,  and  even  faster  than  at  the  familiar  "  double 
quick." 

His  captured  horse  was  a  good  one  ;  his  sabre  excellent.  It 
has  drawn  blood,  as  the  following  historic  anecdote  will  show. 
The  ex-Corporal  was  travelling  through  Culpeper  with  two 
mounted  servants.  He  and  his  retinue  were  hungry  ;  they  could 
purchase  no  food  whatever.  At  every  house  short  supplies — 
none  to  be  vended — very  sorry,  but  could  not  furnish  dinner. 
The  hour  for  that  meal  passed.  Supper-time  came.  At  many 
houses  supper  was  demanded,  with  like  unsuccess.  Then  the 
soul  of  Bumpo  grew  enraged— hunger  rendered  him  lawless,  in 
exorable.  He  saw  a  pig  on  the  road  by  a  large  and  fine  looking 


MY  FRIEND   LIEUTENANT   BUMPO.  361 

Louse ;  poor  people  living  beside  the  road  disclaimed  ownership, 
and  declined  selling.  Impressment  was  necessary — and  Bumpo. 
with  a  single  blow  of  his  sabre,  slaughtered  the  unoffending 
shoat.  Eeplacing  his  sword  with  dignity  in  its  scabbard,  he 
indicated  the  prostrate  animal  with  military  brevity  of  point,  and 
rode  on,  apparently  in  deep  reflection.  The  retinue  followed 
with  a  pig  which  they  had  found  recently  killed,  upon  the  road — 
and  bivouacking  for  the  night  in  the  next  woods  he  reached,  with 
the  aid  of  some  bread  in  his  servants'  haversacks,  Bumpo  made 
an  excellent  supper. 

This  incident  he  related  to  me  with  immoral  exultation.  It  is 
known  in  the  family  as  the  "  Engagement  in  Culpeper.1' 

Bumpo  was  greatly  pleased  with  the  cavalry,  and  learned  fast, 
lie  displayed  an  unerring  instinct  for  discovering  fields  of  new 
corn  for  horse  feed ;  was  a  great  hand  at  fence  rails  for  the 
bivouac  fire  ;  and  indulged  in  other  improper  proceedings  which 
indicated  the  old  soldier,  and  free  ranger  of  the  fields  and  forests. 
The  "  fortunes  of  war  "  gave  me  frequent  opportunities  of  enjoy 
ing  the  society  of  Bumpo  at  this  time.  We  rode  together  many 
scores  of  miles,  with  Augustus  Cassar,  a  coloured  friend,  behind ; 
and  lived  the  merriest  life  imaginable. 

Worthy  Lieutenant  of  the  C.  S.  Artillery,  do  you  ever  recall 
those  sunshiny  days  ?  Don't  you  remember  how  we  laughed 
and  jested  as  we  rode  ;  how  we  talked  the  long  hours  away  so 
often  ;  and  related  to  each  other  a  thousand  stories  ?  How  we 
bivouacked  by  night,  and  halted  to  rest  Toy  day,  making  excel 
lent  fires,  and  once  kindling  the  dry  leaves  into  a  conflagration 
which  we  thought  would  bring  over  the  enemy  ?  Have  you 
forgotten  that  pleasant  little  mansion  in  the  woods,  where  a 
blazing  fire  and  real  coffee  awaited  us-— where  I  purchased 
"  Consuelo,"  and  you,  "  The  Monk's  Bevenge  ?  "  You  were 
Bumpo  "  by  looks  "  and  Bumpo  "  by  character  "  that  day,  my 
friend,  for  you  feasted  as  though  a  famine  were  at  hand !  Then 
the  supper  at  Eudishill's,  and  the  breakfast  at  Siegel's  old  head 
quarters.  The  inarch  by  night,  and  the  apparition  of  Eednose, 
emissary  of  Bluebaker  !  Those  days  were  rather  gay — in  spite 
of  wind  and  snow — were  they  not,  Lieutenant  Bumpo  ?  You 


362  WEARING   OF   THE    GRAY. 

live  easier  now,  perhaps,  but  when  do  you  see  tableaux  like 
Rednose  in  your  journey  ?  Rednose,  superior  to  the  Thane  of 
Cawdor,  inasmuch  as  Tie  was  "  not  afeared  ! 

The  Lieutenant  will  have  to  explain  the  above  mysterious 
allusion  to  his  grand-children.  I  think  he  will  laugh  as  he  does 
so,  and  that  a  small  chirping  chorus  will  join  in. 

The  young  soldier  soon  left  the  cavalry.  He  went  to  see  a 
kinsman,  was  elected  lieutenant  of  artillery  in  a  battery  which 
he  had  never  seen,  and  on  report  of  his  merits  only,  and  returned 
with  his  certificate  of  election  in  his  pocket.  The  old  luck 
attended  him.  In  a  fortnight  or  so  he  was  in  the  battle  of 
Fredericksburg,  where  he  kept  up  a  thundering  fire  upon  the 
enemy — roaring  at  them  all  day  with  the  utmost  glee  ;  and  now 
he  has  gone  with  his  battery,  in  command  of  a  section,  with 
plenty  of  brave  cannoneers  to  work  the  pieces,  to  the  low 
grounds  of  North  Carolina. 

Such  is  the  career  of  Bumpo,  a  brave  and  kindly  youth,  which 
the  letter  received  yesterday  made  me  ponder  upon. 

Some  portions  of  the  epistle  are  characteristic  : 

"  Last  night  I  killed  a  shoat  which  kept  eating  my  corn  ;  and 
made  our  two  Toms  scald  it  and  cut  it  up,  and  this  morning  we 
had  a  piece  of  it  for  breakfast.  We  call  the  other  Tom  '  Long 
Tom,'  and  Thomas  '  Augustus  Cassar  ! ' ' 

Bumpo  !  Bumpo  !  at  your  old  tricks,  I  see.  Shoat  has  always 
been  your  weakness,  you  know,  from  the  period  of  the  famous 
"  Engagement  in  Culpeper,"  where  you  slew  one  of  these  inoffen 
sive  animals.  But  here,  I  confess,  there  are  extenuating  circum 
stances.  For  a  shoat  to  eat  the  corn  of  a  lieutenant  of  a  battery, 
is  a  crime  of  the  deepest  and  darkest  dye,  and  in  this  case  that 
swift  retribution  which  visited  the  deed,  was  consistent  with  both 
law  and  equity. 

The  natural  historian  will  be  interested  in  the  Announcement 
that  he  had  killed  a  good  many  robins,  but  none  were  good,  "  as 
they  live  altogether  on  a  kind  of  berry  called  gall-berry,  which 
makes  them  bitter."  "  Bears,  deer,  coons,  and  opossum  "  there 
are  ;  but  the  Lieutenant  has  killed  none. 

"  The  weather,"  he  adds,  "  is  as  warm  here  as  any  day  in  May 


MY   FEIEND   LIEUTENANT  BUMPO.  363 

in  the  valley.  We  are  on  a  sort  of  island,  bounded  by  dense  swamp 
on  each  side,  and  a  river  before  and  behind,  with  the  bridges  washed 
away.  We  are  throwing  up  fortifications,  bat  I  don't  think  we 
will  ever  need  them,  as  it  is  almost  impossible  for  the  Yankees  to 
find  us  here" 

Admire  the  impregnable  position  in  which  Lieutenant  Bumpo 
with  two  pieces  of  artillery,  "  commanding  in  the  field,"  awaits 
the  approach  of  his  old  friends.  Dense  swamps  on  his  flanks, 
and  rivers  without  bridges  in  his  front  and  rear,  across  which, 
unless  they  come  with  pontoons,  he  can  blaze  away  at  them  to 
advantage  !  That  he  is  certain  to  perform  that  ceremony  if  he 
can,  all  who  know  him  will  cheerfully  testify.  If  he  falls  it  will 
be  beside  his  gun,  like  a  soldier,  and  "dead  on  the  field  of 
honour  "  shall  be  the  young  Virginian's  epitaph. 

But  I  do  not  believe  he  will  fall.  The  supreme  Euler  of  all 
things  will  guard  the  young  soldier  who  has  so  faithfully  per 
formed  his  duty  to  the  land  of  his  birth. 

"  I  think,"  he  adds^n  his  letter  before  me,  "  if  luck  does  not 
turn  against  us,  we  shall  be  recognised  very  soon.  I  don't  care 
how  soon,  but  I  am  no  more  tired  of  it  than  I  was  twelve  months 
ago." 

Is  not  that  the  ring  of  the  genuine  metal  ?  The  stuff  out  of 
which  the  good  soldier  is  made  ?  He  is.no  more  tired  of  it  than 
he  was  a  year  ago,  and  will  cheerfully  fight  it  out  to  the  end. 
Not  "  tired  of  it"  when  so  many  are  "  tired  of  it."  When  such 
numbers  would  be  willing  to  compromise  the  quarrel — to  aban 
don  the  journey  through  the  wilderness  to  Canaan — and  return 
a-h  angered  to  the  fleshpots  of  Egypt! 

Such,  in  rapid  outline,  is  the  military  career  of  my  friend.  I 
said  in  the  beginning  that  he  was  a  "  representative  man."  Is 
he  not  ?  I  think  that  he  represents  a  great  and  noble  race  to 
the  life — the  true-hearted  youths  of  the  South.  They  have 
come  up  from  every  State  and  neighbourhood  ;  from  the  banks 
of  the  Potomac  and  the  borders  of  the  Gulf.  They  laid  down 
the  school-book  to  take  up  the  musket.  They  forgot  that  they 
were  young,  and  remembered  only  that  their  soil  was  invaded. 

Thev  were  born  in  all  classes  of  the  social  body.     The  humble 


364  WEARING   OF   THE   GRAY. 

child  of  toil  stood  beside  the  young  heir  of  an  ancient  line,  and 
they  lived  and  fared  alike.  One  sentiment  inspired  them  in 
common,  and  made  them  brethren — love  for  their  country  and 
hatred  of  her  enemies.  Their  faces  were  beardless,  but  the  stub 
born  resolution  of  full  manhood  dwelt  in  every  bosom.  They 
fought  beside  their  elders,  and  no  worse,  often  better.  No  hard 
ships  made  them  quail.  They  were  cheerful  and  high-spirited, 
marching  to  battle  with  a  gay  and  chivalric  courage,  which  was 
beautiful  and  inspiring  to  behold. 

When  they  survived  the  bloody  contest  they  laughed  gaily, 
like  children,  around  the  camp  fire  at  night.  When  they  fell 
they  died  bravely,  like  true  sons  of  the  South. 

I  have  seen  them  lying  dead  upon  many  battle-fields  ;  with, 
bosoms  torn  and  bloody,  but  faces  composed  and  tranquil.  Fate 
had  done  her  worst,  and  the  young  lives  had  ended  ;  but  not 
vainly  has  this  precious  blood  been  poured  out  on  the  land. 
From  that  sacred  soil  shall  spring  up  courage,  honour,  love  of 
country,  knightly  faith,  and  truth — glory,  above  all,  for  the  noble 
land,  whose  very  children  fought  and  died  for  her  ! 

So  ends,  my  outline  sketch  of  the  good  companion  of  many 
hours. 

Send  him  back  soon,  0  Carolina,  to  his  motherland  Virginia, 
smiling,  hearty,  "  gay  and  happy,"  as  he  left  her  borders ! 

Ainsi  soit-il ! 


V. 
CORPORAL  SHABRACK 


i. 

HIS    OPINION    OF     GENEKAL     LEE. 

CAMP  QUATTLEBUM  RIFLES,  Army  of  Northern  Virginia, 
December  10,  1863. 

WHEN  I  left  home,  my  dear  boys,  I  promised  to  write  to  you 
whenever  an  opportunity  occurred,  and  give  you  some  of  my 
views  and  opinions. 

I  have  an  opportunity  to-rnorrow  to  send  you  this ;  and  as  the 
characters  of  great  men  are  valuable  guides  to  growing  boys 
who  are  shaping  their  own,  I  will  take  this  occasion  to  tell  you 
something  about  the  famous  Commander  of  the  Army  of  North 
ern  Virginia,  General  Lee. 

I  will  first  describe  his  appearance ;  for  I  have  always  ob 
served  that  when  we  know  how  a  great  man  looks,  we  take  far 
more  interest  in  his  sayings  and  doings,  for  we  have  an  accurate 
idea  of  the  sort  of  person  who  is  talking  or  acting.  I  remem 
ber  reading  once  that  Caesar,  the  celebrated  Roman  General,  was 
a  dandy  in  his  youth — a  sort  of  "  fine  gentleman  "  about  Rome  ; 
and  had  lost  all  his  hair,  which  he  regretted  greatly,  and  tried  to 
conceal  with  the  laurel  crown  he  wore.  Also,  that  when  he 
conquered  Gaul  he  was  thin  and  pale,  had  frequent  fainting 
fits,  and  yet  was  so  resolute  and  determined  that  while  he  was 
riding  on  horseback,  over  mountains  and  through  rivers,  he 
would  dictate  dispatches  to  as  many  as  seven  secretaries  at  a 


366  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

time,  who  were  carried  in  litters  at  his  side.  I  also  remember 
reading  how  the  Emperor  Napoleon  looked,  and  all  about  his 
old  gray  overcoat,  his  cocked  hat,  his  habit  of  taking  snuff  from 
his  waistcoat  pocket,  and  his  dark  eyes,  set  in  the  swarthy  face, 
and  looking  at  you  so  keenly  as  he  spoke  to  you.  I  was  greatly 
helped,  too,  in  my  idea  of  General  Washington — whom  General 
Lee,  to  my  thinking,  greatly  resembles — by  finding  that  he  was 
tall,  muscular,  and  carried  his  head  erect,  repulsing  with  a  sim 
ple  look  all  meddling  or  impertinence,  and  impressing  upon  all 
around  him,  by  his  grave  and  noble  manner,  a  conviction  of  the 
lofty  elements  of  his  soul.  Knowing  these  facts  about  Caesar, 
Napoleon,  and  Washington,  I  noticed  that  I  had  a  much  better 
understanding  of  their  careers,  and  indeed  seemed  to  see  them 
when  they  performed  any  celebrated  action  which  was  related 
in  their  biographies. 

General  Lee  is  now  so  justly  famous  that,  although  posterity 
will  be  sure  to  find  out  all  about  him,  my  grandchildren  (if  I 
have  any)  will  be  glad  to  hear  how  he  appeared  to  the  eyes  of 
Corporal  Shabrach,  their  grandfather,  one  of  the  humble  soldiers 
of  his  army. 

I  have  seen  the  General  frequently,  and  he  once  spoke  to  me, 
so  I  can  describe  him  accurately.  He  has  passed  middle  age,  and 
his  hair  is  of  an  iron  gray.  He  wears  a  beard  and  moustache, 
which  are  also  gray,  and  give  him  a  highly  venerable  appear 
ance.  He  has  been,  and  still  is,  an  unusually  handsome  man, 
and  would  attract  attention  in  a  crowd  from  his  face  alone. 
Exposure  to  sun  and  wind  has  made  his  complexion  of  a  ruddy, 
healthy  tint,  and  from  beneath  his  black  felt  hat  a  pair  of  eyes 
look  at  you  with  a  clear,  honest  intentness,  which  gives  you 
thorough  confidence  both  in  the  ability  and  truthfulness  of  their 
owner.  I  have  always  observed  that  you  can  tell  the  character 
of  a  man  by  his  eyes,  and  I  would  be  willing  to  stake  my  farm 
and  all  I  am  worth  upon  the  statement  that  there  never  was  a 
person  with  such  eyes  as  General  Lee's  who  was  not  an  honest 
man.  As  to  his  stature,  it  is  tall,  and  his  body  is  well  knit. 
You  would  say  he  was  strong  and  could  bear  much  fatigue, 
without  being  heavy  or  robust.  His  .bearing  is  erect,  and  when 


CORPORAL  SHABRACK.  367 

his  head  bends  forward,  as  it  sometimes  does,  it  appears  to  stoop 
under  the  weight  of  some  great  scheme  he  is  concocting.  His 
dress  is  very  simple,  consisting  generally  of  an  old  gray  coat, 
dark-blue  pantaloons,  a  riding  cape  of  the  same  colour ;  boots 
worn  outside,  and  a  black  hat.  Sometimes  a  large  dark  overcoat 
is  worn  over  all.  He  seldom  carries  a  sword.  He  rides  fine 
horses,  and  is  my  model  of  an  old  Yirginia  Cavalier,  who  would 
rather  be  torn  to  pieces  by  shell  and  canister  than  give  up  any 
of  his  rights. 

If  I  was  asked  to  describe  General  Lee's  ordinary  appearance 
and  attitude,  either  in  the  saddle,  in  front  of  the  line-of-battle,  or 
standing  with  his  field-glass  in  his  hand,  reconnoitring  the 
enemy  keenly  from  beneath  the  gray  eyebrows,  I  should  say,  in 
words  I  have  met  with  in  some  bookr  that  his  attitude  was  one 
of  supreme  invincible  repose.  Here  you  see  a  man  whom  no 
anxieties  can  flurry,  no  reverses  dismay.  I  have  seen  him  thus 
a  dozen  times,  on  important  occasions ;  and  that,  if  nothing  else, 
convinces  me  that  he  is,  in  the  foundations  of  his  character,  a  very 
great  man.  No  man  in  public  affairs  now,  to  my  thinking  at 
least,  is  so  fine  a  representative  and  so  truthful  a  type  of  the  great 
Virginia  race  of  old  times. 

As  to  his  character,  everybody  has  had  an  opportunity  of 
forming  an  opinion  upon  the  subject — at  least  of  his  military 
character.  Some  persons,  I  know — Captain  Quattlebum  for 
instance,  who  is  a  man  of  no  great  brains  himself,  however,  con 
fidentially  speaking — say  that  Lee  is  not  a  great  general,  and 
compares  him  to  Napoleon,  who,  they  say,  won  greater  victories, 
and  followed  them  up  to  better  results.  Such  comparisons,  to 
my  thinking,  are  foolish.  I  am  no  great  scholar,  but  I  have  read 
enough  about  Napoleon's  times  to  know  that  they  were  very 
different  from  General  Lee's.  He,  I  mean  Napoleon,  was  at  the 
head  of  a  French  army,  completely  -disciplined,  and  bent  on 
"  glory."  They  wanted  their  general  to  fight  on  every  occasion, 
and  win  more  "glory."  If  he  didn't  go  on  winning  "glory"  he 
was  not  the  man  for  them.  The  consequence  was  that  Napoleon, 
who  was  quite  as  fond  of  "glory"  as  l^js  men,  fought  battles 
whenever  he  could  get  at  the  enemy,  and  as  his  armies  were 


368  WEARING   OF   THE   GRAY. 

thoroughly  disciplined,  with  splendid  equipments,  and  plenty 
of  provisions  and  ammunition,  he  was  able  to  follow  up  his  suc 
cesses,  as  he  did  at  Marengo  and  Austerlitz,  and  get  the  full 
benefit  of  them.  Lee  is  in  a  very  different  situation  from  Napo 
leon.  This  is  an  army  of  volunteers,  who  did  not  come  into  the 
field  to  gain  "  glory,"  but  to  keep  the  Yankees  from  coming 
further  South.  They  have  no  disposition  to  rebel  and  get  rid 
of  General  Lee  if  he  does  not  feed  them  on  a  dish  of  "  glory" 
every  few  weeks.  They  are  not  as  well  organized  as  they  ought 
to  be,  and  are  badly  equipped,  provisioned,  and  ammunitioned. 
With  such  an  army  it  is  unreasonable  to  expect  General  Lee  to 
fight  as  often  and  as  desperately  as  Napoleon  did,  or  to  follow 
up  his  victories.  He  takes  the  view,  I  suppose,  that  he  is  Cqm- 
mander-in-Chief  of  the  Confederate  States  in  the  field  ;  that 
"  glory  "  is  a  secondary  matter;  that  worrying  out  the  enemy  is 
the  best  tactics  for  us,  with  our  smaller  number  and  superior 
material ;  and  that  no  risks  ought  to  be  run  with  our  army, 
which,  once  destroyed  by  an  unlucky  step,  could  not  be  replaced. 
Altogether,  for  the  reasons  stated  above,  I  think  General  Lee  is  a 
better  soldier  for  the  place  he  occupies  than  Napoleon  would  be. 

I  can  look  back  to  many  occasions  where  I  think  a  different 
course  from  that  which  he  pursued  would  have  been  better,  but 
I  do  not,  on  that  account,  mean  to  say  that  he  was  wrong.  I 
think  he  was  right.  My  dear  boys,  there  is  no  man  so  wise  as 
he  who  explains  what  ought  to  have  been  done,  after  the  event. 
It  is  like  the  progress  of  science.  A  child,  in  the  year  1864, 
knows  ten  thousand  things  that  the  wisest  philosopher  of  1764 
knew  nothing  about.  So  a  boy  may  be  able  to  understand  that 
this  or  that  would  have  been  better,  from  what  he  now  knows, 
when  our  wisest  generals,  from  want  of  information  at  the  time, 
could  not.  It  is  a  solemn  thing  to  be  in  command  of  an  army 
which  cannot  be  renewed,  if  once  destroyed ;  especially  when 
that  army  is  the  only  breakwater  against  the  torrent  attempting 
to  sweep  us  away. 

I  have,  on  all  occasions,  expressed  these  opinions  of  General 
Lee,  and  I  intend  to  go  on  expressing  them,  with  many  others 
like  them,  and  if  anybody  thinks  I  do  so  from  interested 


CORPORAL  SHABRACH.  369 

motives  they  are  welcome  to  their  opinion.  It  is  not  likely  that 
the  Commander-in-Chief  will  ever  know  \ihether  Fifth  Corporal 
Shabrach  likes  or  dislikes  him — whether  he  admires  him,  or  the 
contrary.  I  am  glad  of  that.  I  consider  myself  just  as  good  as 
General  Lee  as  long  as  I  am  honest  and  a  good  soldier,  doing 
my  duty  to  the  country  in  the  upright,  brave,  and  independent 
attitude  of  a  free  Virginian  ;  and  let  me  tell  you  that  the  Gene 
ral  would  be  the  first  to  acknowledge  it.  My  dear  boys,  there 
is  nobody  so  simple  and  unassuming  as  a  gentleman,  and  I  tell 
you  again  that  General  Lee  is  not  only  a  gentleman,  but  a  great 
man,  and  Corporal  Shabrach  takes  off  his  hat  and  salutes  him, 
whether  noticed  by  the  General  or  not.  It  is  his  duty  to  salute 
him,  and  he  performs  that  duty  without  expecting  to  be  pro 
moted  to  Fourth  Corporal  for  it. 

I  will  therefore  say  of  General  Lee  that,  to  my  thinking,  his 
character  bears  the  most  striking  and  surprising  resemblance  to 
that  of  General  Washington.  When  I  say  this,  you  will  know 
my  opinion  of  him,  for  I  have  always  taught  my  boys  to  revere 
the  name  of  the  Father  of  his  Country.  In.  saying  this  about 
General  Lee,  I  do  not  mean  any  empty  compliment.  It  is  very 
easy  to  talk  about  a  "  secon$  Washington "  without  meaning 
much,  but  I  mean  what  I  say.  I  read  Marshall's  Life  of  the 
General  some  years  since,  and  I  remember  taking  notice  of  the 
fact  that  Washington  appeared  to  be  the  tallest  and  strongest  of 
all  the  great  men  around  him.  I  did  not  see  that  he  excelled 
'  each  one  of  them  in  every  particular.  On  the  contrary,  there  was 
Patrick  Henry ;  he  could  make  a  better  speech.  There  was 
Jefferson ;  he  could  write  a  better  "  State  paper."  And  there 
was  Alexander  Hamilton,  who  was  a  much  better  hand  at  figures, 
and  the  hocus-pocus  of  currency  and  "  finance."  (I  wish  we  had 
him  now,  if  we  could  make  him  a  States'  lights  man.)  But 
Washington,  to  my  thinking,  was  a  much  greater  man  than 
Henry,  or  Jefferson,  or  Hamilton.  He  was  wiser.  In  the  bal 
ance  and  harmony  of  his  faculties  he  excelled  them  all,  and 
when  it  came  to  his  moral  nature  they  were  nowhere  at  all ! 
In  reading  his  life,  I  remember  thinking  that  he  was  the  fairest 
man  I  ever  heard  of.  His  very  soul  seemed  to  revolt  against 

24 


370  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

injustice  to  the  meanest  creature  that  crawled  ;  and  he  appeared 
to  be  too  proud  to  USQ  the  power  he  wielded  to  crush  those  who 
had  made  him  their  enemy  by  their  own  wrong-doing.  Al 
though  he  was  a  man  of  violent  temper,  he  had  it  under  perfect 
control,  and  he  seems  to  have  gone  through  life  with  the  view 
of  having  carved  on  his  tombstone:  "Here  lies  a  man  who 
never  did  intentional  injustice  to  a  human  creature."  Wow  any 
body  that  knows  General  Lee  knows  that  this  is  just  like  him. 
For  my  part,  I  am  just  as  sure  as  I  can  be  of  anything,  that  if 
one  of  his  Major-Generals  tried  to  oppress  the  humble  Fifth  Cor 
poral  Shabrach,  he  would  put  the  Major- General  under  arrest, 
and  make  him  answer  for  his  despotism.  If  you  will  look  at 
the  way  General  Washington  fought,  also,  you  will  find  a  great 
resemblance  to  General  Lee's  tactics.  The  enemy  had  then,  as 
now,  to  be  worried  out — to  be  evaded  by  falling  back  when  the 
ammunition  or  rations  gave  out — to  be  harassed  by  partisans, 
and  defeated  at  one  point  to  balance  their  success  at  another. 
The  account  current  was  cast  up  at  the  end  of  each  year,  the 
balance  struck,  and  preparations  made  to  open  a  new  account  for 
the  next  year,  and  the  next  1 

That's  the  way  we  are  fighting  this  war,  and  that  is  General 
Lee's  plan,  I  think,  as  it  was  Washington's. 

All  this  army  has  pretty  much  the  same  opinion  of  General 
Lee  that  I  have,  and  is  glad  that  it  is  commanded  by  one  whom 
it  both  respects  and  loves.  There  is  no  doubt  about  the  Gene 
ral's  popularity  with  the  army,  and  its  confidence  in  him.  The 
men  call  him  "  Uncle  Eobert,"  and  are  proud  of  his  notice.  I 
told  you  that  he  once  spoke  to  your  father,  who  is  nothing  but 
Fifth  Corporal,  and  you  will  be  proud  when  I  tell  you  that  little 
Willie's  letter,  the  first  he  ever  wrote  me,  was  the  cause.  I  was 
sitting  on.  a  stump  by  the  roadside  reading  it  with  a  delight  that 
showed  itself,  I  suppose,  in  my  countenance,  when,  hearing 
horses'  hoofs  near  me,  I  raised  my  head  and  saw  General  Lee,  in 
his  old  riding-cape,  with  several  members  of  his  staff.  I  rose 
quickly  to  my  feet  and  made  the  military  salute — two  fingers  to 
the  hat — when  what  was  my  surprise  to  see  the  General  stop 
with  all  his  staff.  His  hand  went  to  his  hat  in  return  for  my 


CORPORAL   SHABRACH.  371 

salute,  and  looking  at  me  with  his  clear  eyes,  he  said  in  a  grave, 
friendly  voice : 

"I  suppose  that  is  a  letter  from  your  wife,  is  it  not,  my 
friend?" 

It  was  a  proud  moment  for  Corporal  Shabrach,  I  assure  you, 
my  children,  to  be  called  "  my  friend "  by  old  Uncle  Eobert. 
But  somehow,  he  didn't  make  me  feel  as  if  he  was  condescending. 
It  was  just  as  if  he  had  said :  "  Shabrach,  my  friend,  we  are  both 
good  patriots,  fighting  for  our  country,  and  because  I  am  Com- 
mander-in-Chief  that  is  no  reason  why  I  should  not  respect  an 
honest  Fifth  Corporal,  and  take  an  interest  in  him  and  his  domes 
tic  matters."  His  voice  seemed  to  say  all  that,  and  thinking  he 
was  in  no  hurry  that  morning,  I  replied : 

"  ]N~o,  Greneral ;  I  have  no  wife  now,  although  I  have  had  two 
in  my  time,  the  last  one  having  been  a  great  trial  to  me,  owing 
to  her  temper,  which  was  a  hard  thing  to  stand." 

The  Greneral  smiled  at  this,  and  said  with  a  sort  of  grave 
humour  that  made  his  eyes  twinkle: 

"  Well,  my  friend,  you  appear  to  be  too  well  advanced  in  life 
to  have  a  sweetheart,  although  "  (I  saw  him  look  at  the  chevrons 
on  my  sleeve)  "  all  the  Corporals  I  ever  knew  have  been  gallant." 

"  It  is  not  from  a  sweetheart,  Greneral,"  I  replied  ;  "  after  Mrs. 
Shabrach  the  Second  died,  I  determined  to  remain  unmarried. 
My  little  boy,  Willie,  wrote  it ;  he  is  only  six  years  old,  but  is 
anxious  to  grow  up  and  be  one  of  Greneral  Lee's  soldiers." 

"  That  is  a  brave  boy,"  returned  the  General;  "but  I  hope 
the  war  will  not  last  so  long.  You  must  give  him  my  love,  and 
tell  him  to  fight  for  his  country  if  he  is  ever  called  upon.  Grood 
day,  my  friend." 

And  saluting  me,  the  General  rode  on.  He  often  stops  to 
speak  to  the  soldiers  in  that  way  ;  and  I  mention  this  little  inci 
dent,  my  children,  to  show  you  how  kindly  he  is  in  his  temper, 
and  how  much  he  loves  a  quiet  joke,  with  all  his  grave  air,  and 
the  anxieties  that  must  rest  on  him  as  Commander-in-Chief  of 
the  army. 

I  have  always  despised  people  that  looked  up  with  a  mean 
worship  to  great  men,  but  I  see  nothing  wrong  or  unmanly 


372  WEARING    OF  THE    GEAY. 

in  regarding  with  a  sort  of  veneration—a  mixture  of  affection 
and  respect — this  noble  old  cavalier,  who  seems  to  have  stepped 
out  of  the  past  into  the  present,  to  show  us  what  sort  of  men 
Virginia  can  still  produce.  As  for  myself,  I  never  look  at  him 
without  thinking :  "  It  is  good  for  you  to  be  alive  to  let  the 
youths  of  1863  see  what  their  fathers  and  grandfathers  were  in 
the  great  old  days."  The  sight  of  the  erect  form,  the  iron-gray 
hair  and  beard,  the  honest  eyes,  and  the  stately  figure,  takes  me 
back  to  the  days  when  Washington,  and  Eandolph,  and  Pendle- 
ton,  used  to  figure  on  the  stage,  and  which  my  father  told  me  all 
about  in  my  youth.  Long  may  the  old  hero  live  to  lead  us,  and 
let  no  base  hand  ever  dare  to  sully  the  glories  of  our  well 
beloved  General — the  "  noblest  Eoman  of  them  all,"  the  pink'of 
chivalry  and  honour.  May  health  and  happiness  attend  him ! 

Your  affectionate  father, 

SOLOMON  SHABRACH, 
5th  Corporal,  Army  Northern  Virginia. 


II. 

HIS  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE    PASSPORT  OFFICE. 

CAMP  QUATTLEBUM  RIFLES,  A.  N.  V., 
January  25,  1864. 

When  you.  come  out  of  Eichmond,  my  dear  boys,  you  have 
to  get  a  passport.  As  you  have  never  yet  travelled  from  home, 
I  will  explain  what  a  passport  is.  It  is  a  paper  (always  brown) 
which  is  signed  by  somebody  or  his  clerk,  and  which  induces  a 
melancholy-looking  soldier  at  the  cars,  with  a  musket  and  fixed 
bayonet,  to  let  you  go  back  from  the  horrors  of  Eichmond  to 
the  delights  of  camp. 

As  without  this  brown  paper  (for  unless  the  paper  is  brown 
the  passport  is  not  good)  you  cannot  get  back  home — that  is  to 
camp,  the  soldier's  home — there  is,  of  course,  a  great  crowd  of 
applicants  always  at  the  office  where  the  papers  are  delivered.  I 
was  recently  in  Eichmond,  having  been  sent  there  on  business 


CORPORAL  SHABRACK.  373 

connected  with  the  Quartermaster's  Department  of  our  regiment, 
and  I  will  describe  for  your  instruction  the  passport  office,  and 
the  way  you  get  a  passport. 

I  thought  at  first  I  would  not  need  one,  because  my  orders 
were  approved  by  several  high  officers,  and  last  by  Major  Tay 
lor,  Adjutant-General  of  the  army,  "by  command  of  General 
Lee,"  and  nobody  had  demanded  any  other  evidence  of  my  right 
to  travel  before  I  reached  Richmond.  "  Uncle  Robert  "  will  not 
allow  his  provost-marshals  at  Orange  or  Gordonsville  to  deny  his 
sign-manual,  and  I  was  under  the  mistaken  impression  that  I 
could  enjoy  the  luxury  of  taking  back  a  lot  of  shoes  and  blankets 
to  the  Quattlebum  Rifles,  without  getting  a  permit  on  brown 
paper  from  some  Major  or  Captain  in  Richmond.  I  accordingly 
went  to  the  cars,  and  on  presenting  my  orders  to  the  melancholy 
young  man  with  the  musket  and  bayonet,  posted  there,  found 
his  musket  drop  across  the  door.  When  I  asked  him  what  that 
meant,  he  shook  his  head  and  said  I  had  "  no  passport."  I 
called  his  attention  again  to  my  orders,  but  he  remained  immov 
able,  muttering  in  a  dreary  sort  of  way,  "  You  must  get  a  pass 
port." 

"  Why,  here  are  the  names  of  a  Brigadier  and  Major-General." 

"  You  must  get  a  passport." 

"  Here  is  Major  Taylor's  signature,  by  command  of  General 
Lee." 

"  You  must  get%a  passport." 

"From  whom?'" 

"  Captain ,"  I  forget  who,  "  at  the  passport  office." 

This  appeared  to  be  such  a  good  joke  that  I  began  to  laugh, 
at  which  the  sentinel  looked  very  much  astonished,  and  evi 
dently  had  his  doubts  of  my  sanity.  I  went  back  and  at  once 
looked  up  the  "  passport  office."  I  found  that  it  was  in  a  long 
wooden  building,  on  a  broad  street,  in  the  upper  part  of  the  city, 
and  when  I  reached  the  place  I  found  a  large  crowd  assembled 
at  the  door.  This  door  was  about  two  feet  wide,  and  one  at  a 
time  only  could  enter — the  way  being  barred  by  a  fierce-looking 
sentinel  who  kept  his  musket  with  fixed  bayonet.  I  observed 
that  everything  was  "fixed  bayonet"  in  Richmond,  directly 


374  WEARING    OF  THE    GRAY. 

across  the  door.  This  ferocious  individual  let  in  one  at  a  time, 
and  as  each  one  entered  the  crowd  behind  him,  which  was  as 
tightly  packed  together  as  a  parcel  of  herrings  in  a  barrel, 
surged  forward  with  a  sort  of  rush,  only  to  be  driven  back  by 
the  sentinel,  who  scowled  at  them  pretty  much  as  a  farmer  does 
at  a  parcel  of  lazy  negroes  who  have  neglected  their  work  and 
incurred  the  penalty  of  the  lash.  As  fast  as  the  passports  were 
granted,  those  who  got  them  passed  out  at  another  door ;  a 
second  sentinel,  with  musket  and  fixed  bayonet  also,  bade  defi 
ance  to  the  crowd. 

Well,  after  working  my  way  through  the  mass,  and  remaining 
jammed  in  it  for  over  an  hour,  my  turn  came,  and  with  a  slow 
and  reluctant  motion,  the  sentinel,  who  had  been  eyeing  me  for 
some  time  with  a  sullen  and  insolent  look,  raised  his  musket  and 
allowed  me  to  enter.  His  eye  continued  to  be  fixed  on  me,  as 
if  I  had  come  to  pick  some  one's  pocket,  but  I  did  not  heed  him, 
my  curiosity  being  too  much  excited  by  the  scene  before  rue. 
A  row  of  applicants  were  separated  from  a  row  of  clerks  in 
black  coats,  by  a  tall  railing  with  a  sort  of  counter  on  top,  and 
the  clerks  were  bullying  the  applicants.  That  is  the  only  word 
I  can  use  to  describe  it.  I  am  not  mistaken  about  this.  Here 
were  very  respectable  looking  citizens,  officers  of  the  army,  fine 
looking  private  soldiers,  and  all  were  being  bullied.  "  Why  do 
they  bully  people  at  the  passport  office  ?  "  you  will  probably  ask, 
boys.  I  don't  know,  but  I  have  always  observed  that  small  "  offi 
cial  "  people  always  treat  the  world  at  large  with  a  sort  of  air  of 
defiance,  as  if  "  outsiders  "  had  no  right  to  be  corning  there  to 
demand  anything  of  them ;  and  the  strange  thing  is,  that  every 
body  submits  to  it  as  a  matter  of  course. 

Well,  there  were  a  large  number  of  persons  who  wanted  pass 
ports,  and  only  a  few  clerks  were  ready  to  wait  on  them.  A 
considerable  number  of  well  dressed  young  men  who  would 
make  excellent  privates — they  were  so  stout  and  well  fed — sat 
around  the  warm  stove  reading  newspapers  and  chatting.  I 
wondered  that  they  did  not  help,  but  was  afterwards  informed 
that  this  was  not  "  their  hour,"  and  they  had  nothing  to  do  with 
the  establishment  until  "  their  hour  "  arrived. 


CORPORAL  SHABRACH.  375 

At  last  my  turn  came  round,  and  I  presented  my  orders  to  a 
clerk,  who  looked  first  at  the  paper,  then  at  me,  pretty  much  as 
a  cashier  in  a  bank  would  do  if  he  suspected  that  a  draft  presented 
to  him  was  a  forgery.  Then  the  official  again  studied  the  paper, 
and  said  in  the  tone  of  a  Lieutenant-General  commanding : 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  " 

"  It  is  on  my  orders,"  I  said. 

"  I  asked  your  name,"  snapped  the  official. 

"  Solomon  Shabrach." 

"What  rank?" 

"  Fifth  Corporal." 

"  What  regiment  ?  " 

"  Quattlebum  Rifles." 

"  Hum !  don't  know  any  such  regiment.     What  army  ?  " 

"  General  Lee's." 

"  What  did  you  visit  Richmond  for  ?  '? 

"  On  public  business." 

"  I  asked  you  what  you  came  to  Richmond  for ! "  growled  the 
clerk,  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  is  going  to  say  next,  "  Senti 
nel,  arrest  this  man,  and  bear  him  off  to  the  deepest  dungeon 
of  Castle  Thunder." 

"  My  friend,"  I  said  mildly,  for  I  am  growing  too  old  to  have 
my  temper  ruffled  by  every  youngster,  "  the  paper  you  hold  in 
your  hand  is  my  orders,  endorsed  by  my  various  military  supe 
riors.  That  paper  will  show  you  that  I  am  Corporal  Shabrach, 
of  the  Quattlebum  Rifles,  —  Virginia  regiment,  —  —  's  bri 
gade,  's  division, 's  corps,  Army  of  Northern  Virginia. 

You  will  also  see  from  it  that  I  am  in  Richmond  to  take  charge 
of  Quartermaster's  stores,  and  return  with  them  to  camp  '  with 
out  unnecessary  delay.'  I  have  obtained  the  stores,  which  are 
shoes  and  blankets,  and  I  want  to  obey  my  order  and  take  them 
to  the  company.  If  you  are  unwilling  to  give  me  the  necessary 
passport  to  do  so,  give  me  back  my  orders,  and  I  will  go  to 
General  Winder,  who  is  the  commanding  officer  here,  I  believe, 
and  ask  him  if  there  is  any  objection  to  my  returning  with  my 
shoes  and  blankets  to  the  army." 

At  the  name  of  General  Winder  a  growl  ran  along  the  table, 


376  WEARING   OF   THE   GRAY. 

and  in  about  a  minute  I  had  my  passport  handed  me  without 
further  discussion.  It  was  a  permit  to  go  to  Orange  Court 
house,  Corporal  Shabrach  binding  himself  on  honour  not  to  com 
municate  any  intelligence  (for  publication)  which,  if  known  to 
the  enemy,  would  be  prejudicial  to  the  Confederate  States;  also 
signing  an  oath  on  the  back  of  the  paper,  by  which  he  further 
solemnly  swore  that  he  would  yield  true  faith  and  allegiance  to 
the  aforesaid  Confederate  States.  This  was  on  brown  paper — 
and  I  then  knew  that  I  could  get  out  of  Richmond  without  trou 
ble.  The  sentinel  at  the  other  door  raised  his  musket,  scowled 
at  me,  and  let  me  pass ;  and  at  the  cars,  the  melancholy  senti 
nel  there,  too,  did  likewise.  I  observed  that  he  read  my  pass 
upside  down,  with  deep  attention;  but  I  think  he  relied  upon 
the  fact  that  the  paper  was  brown,  as  a  conclusive  proof  of  its 
genuineness. 

I  have  thus  described,  my  dear  boys,  the  manner  in  which  you 
procure  a  passport  in  Eichmond.  Why  is  the  public  thus  an 
noyed?  I  really  can't  tell  you.  Everybody  has  to  get  one; 
and  even  if  Mrs.  Shabrach  (the  second)  was  alive  she  would  have 
to  sign  that  oath  of  true  allegiance  if  she  wanted  to  get  on  the 
cars.  I  shall  only  add  that  I  think  the  clerk  who  put  her  under 
cross-examination  would  soon  grow  tired  of  the  ceremony.  Her 
tongue  was  not  a  pleasant  one;  but  she  is  now  at  rest. 

I  must  now  say  good-by,  my  dear  boys. 

Your  affectionate  father, 

SOLOMON  SHABRACH. 

Fifth  Corporal. 


VI. 
THE  BAND  OF  THE  "  FIRST  VIRGINIA." 


THAT  band  in  the  Pines  again !  It  is  always  playing,  and 
intruding  on  my  reveries  as  I  sit  here  in  my  tent,  after  work, 
and  muse.  Did  I  say  intruding  ?  A  word  both  discourteous 
and  unjust ;  for  the  music  brings  me  pleasant  thoughts  and 
memories.  May  you  live  a  thousand  years,  0  brave  musicians, 
and  the  unborn  generations  listen  to  your  grand  crescendos  and 
sad  cadences ! 

That  music  brings  back  some  I  heard  many  years  ago,  on  the 
Capitol  square,  in  Richmond.  From  a  platform  rising  between 
the  Capitol  and  City -Hall  this  music  played,  and  it  was  listened 
to  by  youth  and  maiden,  under  the  great  moon,  with  rapture. 
O  summer  nights !  O  happy  hours  of  years  long  gone  into  the 
dust !  Will  you  never  come  back — never*?  And  something 
like  a  ghostly  echo  answered,  "  never  !  "  That  band  is  hushed  ; 
the  musicians  have  departed ;  the  instruments  are  hung  up  in 
the  halls  of  oblivion  ;  but  still  it  plays  in  memory  these  good 
old  tunes  of  "  Far  Away  in  Tennessee,"  "  The  Corn  Top's  Ripe," 
and  "  The  Dear  Virginia  Bride."  0  flitting  figures  in  the  moon 
light  of  old  years,  return  !  Ring,  clarionet,  though  the  drooping 
foliage  of  the  elms,  and  drum,  roar  on !  The  summer  night 
comes  back,  and  the  fairy  face,  like  an  exile's  dream  of  home  in 
a  foreign  land. 

But  that  band  is  not  still;  the  musicians  are  not  dead  ;  they 
live  to-day,  and  blow  away  as  before,  for  they  roll  the  drum 
and  sound  the  bugle  for  the  First  Virginia  Regiment  of  the 


378  WEARING    OF  THE    GRAY. 

Army  of  Northern  Virginia.  I  heard  them  afterwards,  on  two 
occasions,  when  the  music  was  charming,  and  the  recollection  of 
the  scenes  amid  which  it  sounded  interests  me.  The  second  time 
I  heard  the  brave  musicians  was  at  Fairfax  Court-house,  in 
1861 — or  was  it  in  1761?  A  century  seems  to  have  rolled 
away  since  then. 

In  1761  the  present  writer  must  have  been  a  youth,  and 
appears  to  remember  that  a  fair  face  was  beside  him  on  that 
moonlit  portico  at  Fairfax,  while  the  band  of  the  First  Virginia 
played  the  u  Mocking  Bird,"  from  the  camp  across  the  mills. 
The  scene  is  clear  in  memory  to-day,  as  then  to  the  material  eye : 
the  moonlight  sleeping  on  the  roofs  of  the  village ;  the  dis 
tant  woods,  dimly  seen  on  the  horizon  ;  the  musing  figure  in  1»he 
shadow ;  and  the  music  making  the  air  magical  with  melod}', 
to  die  away  in  the  balmy  breeze  of  the  summer  night.  To-day 
the  Federal  forces"  occupy  the  village,  and  their  bands  play 
"Yankee  Doodle,"  or  "  The  Star-Spangled  Banner."  No  more 
does  the  good  old  band  of  the  First  Virginia  play  there,  telling 
you  to  listen  to  the  "  Mocking  Bird,"  and  Colonel  Wyndham's 
bugles  ring  in  place  of  Stuart's ! 

The  third  occasion  when  the  performance  of  this  band  im 
pressed  me  was  in  August,  1861,  when  through  the  camps  at 
Centreville  ran  a  rumour,  blown  upon  the  wind,  which  rumour 
taking  to  itself  a  voice,  said — 

"  The  Prince  is  coming  !  " 

All  at  once  there  appeared  upon  the  summit  of  the  hill,  west  of 
Centreville,  a  common  hack,  which  stopped  not  far  from  where 
I  was  standing,  and  around  this  vehicle  there  gathered  in  a  few 
moments  quite  a  crowd  of  idlers  and  sightseers.  Then  the  door 
was  opened  ;  from  the  carriage  descended  three  or  four  persons, 
and  these  gentlemen  walked  out  on  the  hill  from  which  a  view 
of  the  battle-field  of  Manassas  in  the  distance  was  obtained. 

One  of  these  gentlemen  was  Prince  Jerome  Bonaparte,  all 
knew;  but  which  was  the  Prince?  Half-a-dozen  officers  in 
foreign  uniform  had  ridden  with  the  carriage,  and  one  of  these 
officers  was  so  splendidly  clad  that  he  seemed  to  be  the  person 
age  in  question. 


THE   BAND   OF  THE    "  FIRST  VIRGINIA."  379 

"  I  suppose  that  is  the  Prince,"  I  said  to  a  friend  beside  me. 

"No,  you  are  mistaken." 

" Which  is,  then?" 

"Look  around  in  the  crowd,  and  see  if  you  cannot  tell  him 
from  the  family  likeness." 

Following  this  suggestion,  my  gaze  all  at  once  was  arrested 
by  a  plainly;  clad  person  in  the  midst  of  the  cortege — a  farmer 
apparently,  for  he  wore  a  brown  linen  coat  and  common  straw 
hat,  with  nothing  whatever  to  indicate  the  soldier  or  dignitary 
in  his  appearance.  But  his  dress  disappeared  from  view  and 
was  speedily  forgotten ;  the  face  absorbed  attention  from  the 
first  moment ;  that  face  was  the  most  startling  reproduction  of 
Napoleon's — the  first  Emperor's.  There  was  no  possibility  of 
making  a  mistake  in  this — every  one  who  was  familiar  with 
the  portraits  of  Napoleon  recognised  the  prince  at  a  glance. 
He  was  taller  and  more  portly  than  the  "  Man  of  Destiny ;  "  but 
the  family  resemblance  in  feature  and  expression  was  absolutely 
perfect.  I  needed  no  one  to  say  "  This  is  a  Bonaparte."  The 
blood  of  the  Corsican  was  there  for  all  to  recognise  ;  this  was  a 
branch  of  that  tree  whose  boughs  had  nearly  overspread  a  con 
tinent. 

Soon  afterwards  the  forces  then  at  Centreville  were  drawn  up 
for  review — the  infantry  ranged  across  the  valley  east  and  west ; 
the  artillery  and  cavalry  disposed  on  the  flanks  of  the  brigades. 
Thus  formed  in  line  of  battle,  the  forces  were  reviewed  by  the 
French  Prince,  by  whose  side  rode  Beauregard.  Then  the  cortege 
stopped  ;  an  aide  left  it  at  full  gallop — soon,  the  order  which  he 
carried  was  understood  by  all.  The  First  Virginia  regiment  was 
seen  in  motion,  and  advancing ;  reaching  the  centre  of  the  field, 
it  went  through  all  the  evolutions  of  infantry  for  the  Prince's 
inspection ;  and  while  the  movements  were  going  on,  the  band 
of  the  regiment — that  same  old  band  ! — played  the  "  Mocking 
Bird,"  and  all  the  well  known  tunes,  impressing  itself  upon  the 
memory  of  everybody  present,  as  an  inseparable  "  feature  "  of 
the  occasion ! 

It  was  not  Napoleon  I.  who  reviewed  the  forces  of  Beaure 
gard  at  Centreville ;  but  it  was  a  human  being  astonishingly 


380  WEARING   OF   THE   GRAY. 

like  him.  And  if  Prince  Jerome  ever  sees  this  page,  and  is  led 
to  recall  what  he  looked  upon  that  day,  I  think  he  will  remem 
ber  the  band  of  the  First  Virginia,  playing  the  "  Mocking  Bird  " 
and  the  "  Happy  Land  of  Dixie." 

Fairfax,  Centreville,  Leesburg !  Seldom  does  the  present 
writer  recall  the  first  two  names  without  remembering  the  third ; 
and  here  it  was— at  Leesburg — that  a  band  of  the  enemy's  made 
a  profound  impression  upon  his  nerves.  The  band  in  question 
performed  across  the  Potomac,  and  belonged  to  the  forces  under 
General  Banks,  who  had  not  yet  encountered  the  terrible  Stone 
wall  Jackson,  or  even  met  with  that  disastrous  repulse  at  Ball's 
Bluff.  He  was  camped  opposite  Leesburg,  and  from  the  hill 
which  we  occupied  could  be  heard  the  orders  of  the  Federal 
officers  at  drill,  together  with  the  roar  of  their  brass  band  playing 
"Yankee  Doodle"  or  "  Hail  Columbia."  To  the  patriotic  heart 
those  airs  may  be  inspiring,  but  it  cannot  be  said  with  truth  that 
they  possess  a  high  degree  of  sweetness  or  melody.  So  it  hap 
pened  that  after  listening  for  some  weeks  from  the  grassy  slope 
above  "Big  Spring"  to  this  band,  the  present  writer  grew  des 
perate,  and  was  filled  with  an  unchristian  desire  to  slay  the 
musicians,  and  so  end  their  performances.  Columbia  was  hailed 
at  morning,  noon,  and  night ;  Yankee  Doodle  became  a  real  per 
sonage  and  walked  through  one's  dreams — those  horrible  brass 
instruments  became  a  thorn  in  the  flesh,  a  torture  to  the  soul, 
an  inexpressible  jar  and  discord. 

So,  something  like  joy  filled  the  heart  of  this  writer  when  the 
order  came  to  march  to  a  point  lower  down  the  river.  The  column 
moved;  the  point  was  reached;  the  tents  were  pitched — then 
suddenly  came  "  the  unkindest  cut  of  all."  The  very  same  band 
struck  up  across  the  river,  playing  "Hail  Columbia"  with 
energy,  in  apparent  honour  of  our  presence  opposite.  When  we 
had  moved,  it  had  moved ;  when  we  halted,  it  halted — there  was 
the  wretched  invention  of  Satan  playing  away  as  before  with 
enormous  ardour,  and  evidently  rejoicing  in  its  power  over  us. 
The  musicians  played  at  every  guard-mounting  and  drill;  the 
drums  rolled  at  tattoo  and  reveille;  the  bugles  rang  clearly 
through  the  air  of  evening ;  and  the  friends  of  General  Banks 


381 

seemed  to  be  having  the  jolliest  time  imaginable.  That  miser 
able  band  continued  to  play  its  "  patriotic  airs  "  until  everybody 
grew  completely  accustomed  to  it.  It  was  even  made  useful  by 
the  sergeant  of  a  company,  I  heard.  He  had  no  watch,  and 
economically  used  the  tattoo  and  reveille  of  the  enemy's  drums 
to  regulate  his  roll-call,  and  "lights  out." 

I  thought  to  speak  only  of  the  good  old  band  of  the  First  Vir 
ginia;  but  have  spoken  too  of  its  rival  over  the  Potomac.  A 
word  still  of  the  band  in  the  pine  wood  yonder,  which  plays, 
and  plays,  with  splendid  and  rejoiceful  ardour.  It  is  loud, 
inspiring,  moving,  but  it  is  not  gay ;  and  I  ask  myself  the 
question,  Why  ?  Alas !  it  is  the  ear  that  listens,  not  the  music, 
which  makes  mirthful  or  the  reverse  these  animated  strains. 
The  years  bring  many  changes,  and  we — alas  !  we  change,  cum 
illis  !  Once  on  a  time  the  sound  of  music  was  like  laughter; 
now  it  seems  to  sigh.  Does  it  sigh  for  the  good  companions 
gone,  or  only  for  lost  youth,  with  the  flower  of  the  pea,  and  the 
roses  that  will  never  bloom  more  ?  0  martial  music,  in  your 
cadences  are  many  memories — and  memory  is  not  always  gay 
and  mirthful !  •  So,  cease  your  long-drawn,  splendid  battle 
anthem ! — play,  instead,  some  "  passionate  ballad,  gallant  and 
gay  " — or  better  still,  an  old  Virginia  reel,  such  as  the  soldiers  of 
the  army  used  to  hear  before  they  lived  in  tents.  Unlike  the 
great  Luria,  we  long  to  see  some  "  women  in  the  camp  " — or  if 
not  in  person,  at  least  in  imagination  ! 

Has  some  spirit  of  the  air  flashed  to  the  brave  musicians  what 
I  wish  ?  Do  they  feel  as  I  do  ?  The  gayest  reel  of  all  the  reels 
since  time  was  born,  comes  dancing  on  the  wind,  and  every 
thought  but  mirth  is  banished.  Gay  reel,  play  on!  Bright 
carnival  of  the  years  that  have  flown,  come  back — come  back, 
with  the  smiling  lips  and  the  rose-red  cheeks,  with  the  braidod 
hair  and  the  glimmer  of  mischievous  eyes  ! 


VII. 

THE  "OLD  STONEWALL  BRIGADE." 


IN  every  army  there  is  a  Corps  d7  Elite  winch  bears  the  heaviest 
brunt  of  battle,  and  carries  off  the  chief  glories  of  the  conflict. 
In  the  forces  of  Caesar  it  was  the  "  Tenth  Legion  "  which  Ijiat 
"  foremost  man  of  all  this  world  "  took  personal  command  of, 
and  led  into  action,  when  the  moment  for  the  last  struggle  came. 
In  the  royal  troops  of  Louis  XIV.,  fighting  against  Marlborough, 
it  was  the  Garde  Frangais  who  were  called  upon  when  "  do  or 
die "  was  the  word,  and  men  were  needed  who  with  hats  off 
would  call  on  their  enemies  to  deliver  the  first  fire,  and  then 
close  in,  resolved  to  conquer  or  leave  their  dead  bodies  on  the 
field.  In  the  Grand  Armee  of  Napoleon  it  was  the  Vieux 
Garde  which  the  Emperor  depended  upon  to  retrieve  the  for 
tunes  of  the  most  desperate  conflicts,  and  carry  forward  the 
Imperial  Eagles  to  victory. 

In  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  there  is  a  corps,  which, 
without  prejudice  to  their  noble  commander,  may  be  said  to 
represent  the  Tenth  Legion  of  Caesar,  the  French  Guard  of 
Louis,  and  the  Old  Guard  of  Napoleon.  This  is  the  Old  Stone 
wall  Brigade  of  Jackson. 

The  Old  Stonewall  Brigade  !  What  a  host  of  thoughts,  memo 
ries,  and  emotions,  do  those  simple  words  incite  !  The  very  men 
tion  of  the  famous  band  is  like  the  bugle  note  that  sounds  "  to 
arms ! "  These  veterans  have  fought  and  bled  and  conquered 
on  so  many  battle-fields  that  memory  grows  weary  almost  of 
recalling  their  achievements.  Gathering  around  Jackson  in  the 
old  days  of  1861,  when  Patterson  confronted  Johnston  in  the 
Valley  of  the  Shenandoah — when  Stuart  was  a  simple  Colonel, 


THE    "  OLD  STONEWALL  BRIGADE."  383 

and  Ashby  only  a  Captain — they  held  in  check  an  enemy 
twenty  times  their  number,  and  were  moulded  by  their  great 
commander  into  that  Spartan  phalanx  which  no  Federal  bayonet 
could  break.  They  were  boys  and  old  men ;  the  heirs  of 
ancient  names,  who  had  lived  in  luxury  from  childhood,  and  the 
humblest  of  the  unlettered  sons  of  toil ;  students  and  plough 
men,  rosy-cheeked  urchins  and  grizzled  seniors,  old  and  young, 
rich  and  poor ;  bat  all  were  comrades,  trained,  united,  fighting 
for  a  common  end,  and  looking  with  supreme  confidence  to  the 
man  in  the  dingy  gray  uniform,  with  the  keen  eyes  glittering 
under  the  yellow  gray  cap,  who  at  Manassas  was  to  win  for 
himself  and  them  that  immortal  name  of  "  Stonewall,"  cut  now 
with  a  pen  of  iron  on  the  imperishable  shaft  of  history. 

It  was  the  Shenandoah  Valley  which  more  than  all  other 
regions  gave  the  corps  its (  distinctive  character  and  material; 
that  lovely  land  which  these  boys  fought  over  so  often  after 
wards,  charging  upon  many  battle-fields  with  that  fire  and  reso 
lution  which  come  only  to  the  hearts  of  men  fighting  within 
sight  of  their  homes.  Jackson  called. to  them  ;  they  came  from 
around  Winchester,  and  Millwood,  and  Charlestown  ;  from  valley 
and  mountain  ;  they  fell  into  line,  their  leader  took  command, 
and  then  commenced  their  long  career  of  toil  and  glory ;  their 
wonderful  marches  over  thousands  of  miles  ;  their  incessant  com- 
'bats  against  odds  that  seemed  overpowering;  their  , contempt 
of  all  that  makes  the  soldier  faint-hearted,  of  snow  and  rain,  and 
cold  and  heat,  and  hunger  and  thirst,  and  marching  that  wears 
down  the  strongest  frames,  making  the  most  determined  energies 
yield.  Many  dropped  by  the  way,  but  few  failed  Jacksori. 
The  soul  of  their  leader  seemed  to  have  entered  every  breast ; 
and  thus  in  thorough  rapport  with  that  will  of  iron,  they  seemed 
to  have  discovered  the  secret  of  achieving  impossibilities.  To 
meet  the  enemy  was  to  drive  him  before  them,  it  seemed — so 
obstinately  did  the  eagles  of  victory  continue  to  perch  upon  the 
old  battle  flag.  The  men  of  the  Old  Stonewall  Brigade  marched 
on,  and  fought,  and  triumphed,  like  war  machines  which  felt  no 
need  of  rest,  food,  or  sleep.  On  the  advance  to  Eomney  they 
marched — many  of  them  without  shoes — over  roads  so  slippery 


384:  WEARING    OF    THE    GRAY. 

with  ice  that-  men  were  falling  and  guns  going  off  all  along  the 
line,  and  at  night  lay  clown  without  blankets  or  food  upon  the 
snow,  to  be  up  and  moving  again  at  dawn.  When  Shields  and 
Fremont  were  closing  in  on  Jackson's  rear,  they  marched  in  one" 
day  from  Harper's  Ferry  to  Strasburg,  nearly  fifty  miles.  On 
the  advance  in  August,  1862,  to  the  Second  Manassas,  they 
passed  over  nearly  forty  miles,  almost  without  a  moment's  rest ; 
and  as  Jackson  rode  along  the  line  which  was  still  moving  on 
"  briskly  and  without  stragglers,"  no  orders  could  prevent  them 
from  bursting  forth  into  tumultuous  cheers  at  the  sight  of  him. 
He  had  marched  them  nearly  to  death,  to  reach  a  position  where 
they  were  to  sustain  the  whole  weight  of  ^Pope's  army  hurled 
against  them — they  were  weary  unto  death,  and  staggering — bat 
they  made  the  forests  of  Fauquier  resound  with  that  electric 
shout  which  said,  "  We  are  ready !  " 

Such  has  been  the  work  of  the  Old  Brigade — not  their  glory  ; 
that  is  scarcely  here  alluded  to> — but  their  hard,  unknown  toil  to 
carry  out  their  chief's  orders.  "  March  !  "  has  been  the  order 
of  their  going.  The  very  rapidity  of  their  marches  separates 
them  from  all  soldier  comforts — often  from  their  very  blankets, 
however  cold  the  weather ;  and  any  other  troops  but  these  and 
their  Southern  comrades  would  long  since  have  mutinied,  and 
demanded  bread  and  rest.  But  the  shadow  of  disaffection  never 
flitted  over  forehead  in  that  command.  Whatever  discontent 
may  be  felt  at  times  at  the  want  of  attention  on  the  part  of  sub 
ordinate  officers  to  their  necessities,  the  "long  roll"  has  only  to 
be  beaten — they  have  only  to  see  the  man  in  the  old  faded  uni 
form  Appear,  and  hunger,  cold,  fatigue,  are  forgotten.  The  Old 
Brigade  is  ready — "Here!"  is  the  answer  to  the  roll-call,  all 
along  the  line :  and  though  the  eye  is  dull  from  want  of  food 
and  rest,  the  arm  is  strong  and  the  bayonet  is  sharp  and  bright. 

That  leader  in  the  faded  uniform  is  their  idol.  Anecdote, 
song,  story — in  all  he  is  sung  or  celebrated.  The  verses  profess 
ing  to  have  been  "found  upon  the  body  of  a  Serjeant  of  the 
Old  Stonewall  Brigade  at  Winchester,"  are  known  to  all — the 
picture  they  contain  of  the  men  around  the  camp  fire — the 
Shenandoah  flowing  near,  the  "  burly  Blue  Eidge  "  echoing  to 


THE    "OLD  STONEWALL  BRIGADE."  385 

their  strains — and  the  appearance  of  the  "  Blue  Light  Elder  " 
calling  on  his  men  to  pray  with  him  : 

"Strangle  the  fool  that  dares  to  scoff! 

Attention !  'tis  his  way 
Appealing  from  his  native  sod 
In  forma  pauperis  to  God, 
'  Lay  bare  thine  arm,  stretch  forth  thy  rod  ! 

Amen  I ' — that's  Stonewall's  way." 

Here  is  the  rough  music  of  the  singer  as  he  proceeds  with  his 
strain,  and  recalls  the  hard  conflict  of  the  second  Manassas,  when 
Longstreet  was  at  Thoroughfare,  Jackson  at  Groveton : 

"  He's  in  the  saddle  now !     Fall  in ! 

Steady — the  whole  Brigade  1 
Hill's  at  the  ford,  cut  off!     We'll  win 

His  way  out — ball  and  blade. 
What  matter  if  our  shoes  are  worn ! 
What  matter  if  our  feet  are  torn  ! 
'  Quick-step— we're  with  him  before  dawn !  ' 

That's  '  Stonewall  Jackson's  way.' 

"  The  sun's  bright  lances  rout  the  mists 

Of  morning,  and,  by  George, 
There's  Longstreet  struggling  in  the  lists, 

Hemmed  in  an  ugly  gorge. 
Pope  and  his  Yankees  whipped  before — 
'  Bay'net  and  Grape !  '  hear  Stonewall  roar, 
'  Charge,  Stuart !     Pay  off  Ashby's  score  1  ' 

That's  '  Stonewall  Jackson's  way ! ' " 

Lastly,  hear  how  the  singer  at  the  camp  fire,  in  sight  of  the 
firs  of  the  Blue  Eidge  and  the  waters  of  the  Shenandoah,  in 
dulges  in  a  wild  outburst  in  honour  of  his  chief: 

"  Ah,  maiden !  wait  and  watch  and  yearn 

For  news  of  Stonewall's  band ; 
Ah,  widow !  read,  with  eyes  that  burn, 

That  ring  upon  thy  hand  ! 
Ah,  wife  I  sew  on,  pray  on,  hope  on : 
Thy  life  shall  not  be  all  forlorn — 
The  foe  had  better  ne'er  been  born 
Than  get  in  StonewaWs  way  !  " 

25 


386  WEARING    OF    THE    GRAY. 

These  words  may  sound  extravagant  but  defeat  has  met  the 
enemy  so  persistently  wherever  Jackson  has  delivered  battle  at 
the  head  of  the  Old  Brigade  and  their  brave  comrades,  that  the 
song  is  not  so  unreasonable  as  it  may  appear.  And  here  let  me 
beg  that  those  "brave  comrades'?  of  the  Old  Brigade  will  not 
suppose  that  I  am  oblivious  of  their  own  glory,  their  undying 
courage,  and  that  fame  they  have  won,  greater  than  Greek  or 
Roman.  They  fought  as  the  men  I  am  writing  of,  did — with  a 
nerve  as  splendid,  and  a  patriotism  as  pure  and  unfaltering  as 
ever  characterized  human  beings.  It  is  only  that  I  am  speaking 
now  of  my  comrades  of  the  Shenandoah  Valley,  who  fought 
and  fell  beneath  the  good  old  flag,  and  thinking  of  those  dear 
dead  ones,  and  the  corps  in  which  they  won  their  deathless 
names,  I  am  led  to  speak  of  them  and  it  only. 

Of  these,  and  the  Old  Brigade,  I  am  never  weary  thinking, 
writing,  or  telling:  of  the  campaigns  of  the  Valley;  the  great 
flank  movement  on  the  Chickahominy  ;  the  advance  upon  Manas- 
sas  in  the  rear  of  Pope;  the  stern,  hard  combat  on  the  left  wing 
of  the  army  at  the  battle  of  Sharpsburg ;  all  their  toils,  their 
sufferings,  their  glories.  Their  path  has  been  strewed  all  over 
with  battles ;  incredible  have  been  the  marches  of  the  "  Foot 
Cavalry ;"  incessant  their  conflicts.  Death  has  mowed  down 
whole  ranks  of  them ;  the  thinned  line  tells  the  story  of  their 
losses ;  but  the  war-worn  veterans  still  confront  the  enemy.  The 
comrades  of  those  noble  souls  who  have  thus  poured  out  their 
hearts'  blood,  hold  their  memory  sacred.  They  laughed  with 
them  in  the  peaceful  years  of  boyhood,  by  the  Shenandoah,  in 
the  fields  around  Millwood,  in  Jefferson,  or  amid  the  Alleghanies ; 
then  they  fought  beside  them,  in  Virginia,  in  Maryland, 
wherever  the  flag  was  borne ;  they  loved  them,  mourn  them, 
every  name  is  written  on  their  hearts,  whether  officer  or  private, 
and  is  ineffaceable.  Their  own  time  may  come,  to-day  or  to 
morrow  ;  but  they  feel,  one  and  all,  that  if  they  fall  they  will 
give  their  hearts'  blood  to  a  noble  cause,  and  that  if  they  sur 
vive,  the  memory  of  past  toils  and  glories  will  be  sweet. 

Those  survivors  may  be  pardoned  if  they  tell  their  children, 
when  the  war  is  ended,  that  they  fought  under  Jackson,  in  the 


THE    "  OLD   STONEWALL   BRIGADE."  387 

"  Old  Stonewall  Brigade."  They  may  be  pardoned  even  if  they 
boast  of  their  exploits,  their  wonderful  marches,  their  constant 
and  desperate  combats,  the  skill  and  nerve  which  snatched  vic 
tory  from  the  jaws  of  defeat,  and,  even  when  they  were  retiring 
before  overwhelming  numbers,  made  it  truly  better  that  the  foe 
had  "  ne'er  been  born"  than  meet  their  bayonet  charge. 

In  speaking  of  this  veteran  legion,  "praise  is  virtue."  Their 
history  is  blazoned  all  over  with  glory.  They  are  "  happy  names, 
beloved  children" — the  favourites  of  fame,  if  not  of  fortune.  In 
their  dingy  uniforms,  lying  stretched  beneath  the  pines,  or  by 
the  roadside,  they  are  the  mark  of  many  eyes  which  see  them 
not,  the  absorbing  thought  in  the  breast  of  beauty,  and  the  idols 
of  the  popular  heart.  In  line  before  the  enemy,  with  their  bris 
tling  bayonets,  they  are  the  life-guard  of  their  dear  old  mother, 
Virginia. 

The  heart  that  does  not  thrill  at  sight  of  the  worn  veterans,  is 
cold  indeed.  To  him  who  writes,  they  present  a  spectacle  noble 
and  heroic  ;  and  their  old  tattered,  ball-pierced  flag  is  the  sacred 
ensign  of  liberty. 

Their  history  and  all  about  them  is  familiar  to  me.  I  have 
seen  them  going  into  action — after  fighting  four  battles  in  five 
days — with  the  regularity  and  well  dressed  front  of  holiday 
soldiers  on  parade.  There  was  no  straggling,  no  lagging;  every 
man  stood  to  his  work,  and  advanced  with  the  steady  tramp  of 
the  teue  soldier.  The  ranks  were  thin,  and  the  faces  travel-worn  ; 
but  the  old  flag  floated  in  the  winds  of  the  Potomac  as  defiantly 
as  on  the  banks  of  the  Shenandoah.  That  bullet-torn  ensign 
might  have  been  written  all  over,  on  both  sides,  with  the  names 
of  battles,  and  the  list  have  then  been  incomplete.  Manassas, 
Winchester,  Kernstown,  Front  Royal,  Port  Republic,  Cold  Har 
bour,  Malvern  Hill,  Slaughter  Mountain,  Bristow  Station, Grove- 
ton — Ox  Hill,  Sharpsburg,  Fredericksburg,  were  to  follow.  And 
these  were  but  the  larger  names  upon  the  roll  of  their  glory. 
The  numberless  engagements  of  minor  character  are  omitted  ; 
but  in  these  I  have  mentioned  they  appear  to  the  world,  and 
sufficiently  vindicate  their  claim  to  the  title  of  heroes. 

I  seemed  to  see  those  names  upon  their  flag  as  the  old  brigade 


388  WEARING   OF   THE   GRAY. 

advanced  that  day,  and  my  whole  heart  went  to  greet  them,  as 
it  had  gone  forth  to  meet  and  greet  the  brave  youth  whom  I  spoke 
to  just  before  the  battle,  by  the  roadside,  where  he  lay  faint  and 
weak  but  resolute  and  smiling.* 

Whatever  be  the  issue  of  the  conflict,  these  brave  spirits  will 
be  honoured,  and  held  dear  by  all  who  love  real  truth  and 
worth  and  courage.  Wherever  they  sleep — amid  the  Alleghaneys, 
or  by  the  Potomac,  in  the  fields  of  Maryland,  or  the  valleys 
and  lowlands  of  Virginia — they  are  holy.  Those  I  knew  the  best 
and  loved  most  of  all,  sleep  now  or  will  slumber  soon  beneath 
the  weeping  willow  of  the  Old  Chapel  graveyard  in  the  Valley. 
There  let  them  rest  amid  tears,  but  laurel-crowned.  They  sleep, 
but  are  not  dead,  for  they  are  immortal. 

*  The  brave  Lieutenant  Robert  Randolph.     "  Requiescat  in  pace  !  " 


VIII. 
AMALS  OF  "THE  THIRD." 


i. 

SAD  but  pleasing  are  the  memories  of  the  past !  Gay  and  gro 
tesque  as  well  as  sorrowful  and  sombre,  are  the  recollections  of 
the  "  old  soldiers  "  who,  in  the  months  of  1861,  marched  to  the 
rolling  drum  of  Beauregard ! 

At  that  time  the  present  writer  was  a  Sergeant  of  Artillery,  to 
which  high  rank  he  had  been  promoted  from  the  position  of 
private:  and  the  remembrance  of  those  days  when  he  was  uni 
formly  spoken  to  as  "Sergeant"  is  by  no  means  unpleasing. 
The  contrary  is  the  fact.  In  those  "  callow  days  "  the  war  was  a 
mere  frolic — the  dark  hours  were  yet  unborn,  when  all  the  sky 
was  over-shadowed,  the  land  full  of  desolation — in  the  radiant 
sunshine  of  the  moment  it  was  the  amusing  and  grotesque  phase 
of  the  situation  that  impressed  us,  not  the  tragic. 

The  post  of  Sergeant  may  not  be  regarded  as  a  very  lofty  one, 
compared  with  that  of  field  or  general  officers,  but  it  has  its  ad 
vantages  and  its  dignity.  The  Sergeant  of  Artillery  is  "  Chief 
of  Piece  " — that  is  to  say,  he  commands  a  gun,  and  gun-detach 
ment:  and  from  the  peculiar  organization  of  the  artillery,  his 
rank  assimilates  itself  to  that  of  Captain  in  an  infantry  regiment. 
He  supervises  his  gun,  his  detachment,  his  horse  picket,  and  is 
responsible  for  all.  He  is  treated  by  the  officer  in  command  with 
due  consideration  and  respect.  A  horse  is  supplied  to  him.  He 
is,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  a  commissioned  officer. 

But  the  purpose  of  the  writer  is  not  to  compose  an  essay  upon 
military  rank.  From  the  Sergeant  let  us  pass  to  the  detachment 


390  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

which  he  commanded.  They  were  a  gay  and  jo.vial  set — those 
young  gentlemen  of  the  "  Third  Detachment" — for  they  were  for 
the  most  part  youths  of  gentle  nurture  and  liberal  education, 
who  had  volunteered  at  the  first  note  of  the  bugle.  They  fought 
hard  to  the  end  of  the  war,  but  in  camp  they  were  not  energetic. 
Guard  duty  and  horse-grooming  were  abominable  in  their  eyes ; 
and  the  only  pursuits  to  which  I  ever  saw  them  apply  themselves 
witk  activity  and  energy  were  visiting  young  ladies,  and  smok 
ing  pipes.  From  this  it  may  be  understood  that  they  were  bad 
material  for  "common  soldiers,"  in  the  European  acceptation  of 
the  term ;  and  their  "  Chief"  was  accustomed  to  appeal  rather  to 
their  sense  of  propriety  than  the  fear  of  military  punishment. 
The  appeal  was  perfectly  successful.  When  off  duty,  he  mag 
nanimously  permitted  them  to  do  what  they  chose ;  signed  all 
their  passports  without  looking  at  them  ;  and  found  them  the 
most  orderly  and  manageable  of  soldiers.  They  obeyed  his  or 
ders  when  on  duty,  with  energy  and  precision  :  were  ready  with 
the  gun  at  any  alarm  before  all  the  rest,  the  commanding  officer 
was  once  pleased  to  say ;  and  treated  their  Chief  with  a  kindness 
and  consideration  mingled,  which  he  still  remembers  with  true 
pleasure. 

The  battery  was  known  as  the  "  Eevolutionary  Ducks."  This 
sobriquet  requires  explanation,  and  that  explanation  is  here 
given.  When  John  Brown,  the  celebrated  Harper's  Ferry 
"  Martyr,"  made  his  onslaught,  everything  throughout  Virginia 
was  in  commotion.  It  was  said  that  the  "  Martyr  "  and  his  band 
were  only  the  advance  guard  of  an  army  coming  from  Ohio.  At 
this  intelligence  the  battery — then  being  organized  in  Kichmond 
by  the  brave  George  W.  Randolph,  afterwards  General,  and  Sec 
retary  of  War — rushed  quickly  to  arms :  that  is,  to  some  old 
muskets  in  the  armory,  their  artillery  armament  not  having  been 
obtained  as  yet.  Then  commanded  by  the  General  to  be,  they 
set  out  joyously  for  Harper's  Ferry,  intent  on  heading  off  the 
army  from  Ohio.  In  due  time  they  landed  from  the  boat  in 
Washington,  were  greeted  by  a  curious  and  laughing  crowd, 
and  from  the  crowd  was  heard  a  voice  exclaiming,  "  Here's  your 
Revolutionary  Ducks!  "  The  person  who  had  uttered  this  se- 


ANNALS  OF  "THE  THIRD."  391 

vere  criticism  of  the  ununiformed  and  somewhat  travel-worn 
warriors  was  soon  discovered  to  be  an  irreverent  hackman  ;  but 
the  nick-name  made  the  youthful  soldiers  laugh — they  accepted 
it.  They  were  thenceforth  known  to  all  their  friends  and  ac 
quaintances  as  the  "  Eevolutionary  Ducks." 

The  Revolutionnaires  marched  to  Manassas  at  the  end  of  May, 
1861,  and  a  few  days  after  their  arrival  one  of  the  South  Caro 
linians  camped  there,  asked  me  if  I  had  "  seen  the  little  General," 
meaning  General  Beauregard,  who  had  just  assumed  command. 
The  little  General  visited  the  battery,  and  soon  dispatched  it  with 
his  advance-force  under  Bonham  to  Fairfax  Court-House,  where  it 
remained  camped  on  a  grassy  slope  until  the  middle  of  July, 
when  it  came  away  with  unseemly  haste.  In  fact,  a  column  of 
about  fifty -five  thousand  blue-coats  were  after  it ;  and  the  "  Third 
Detachment,"  with  their  gun,  had  a  narrow  escape.  They  were 
posted,  solus,  near  the  village  of  Germantown,  with  the  trees  cut 
clown,  four  hundred  and  thirty  yards  by  measurement,  in  front 
to  afford  range  for  the  fire.  Here  they  awaited  with  cheerfulness 
the  advance  of  the  small  Federal  force,  until  a  horseman  galloped 
up  with,  "  Gentlemen !  the  enemy  are  upon  you,"  which  was 
speedily  followed  by  the  appearance  of  blue  uniforms  in  the  wood 
in  front.  The  infantry  supports  were  already  double-quicking 
to  the  rear.  The  odds  of  fifty-five  thousand  against  twenty-five 
was  too  great  for  the  "  Third  ;  "  and  they  accordingly  limbered 
to  the  rear,  retiring  with  more  haste  than  dignity.  A  friend  had 
seen  the  huge  blue  column  passing  from  Flint  Hill  toward  Ger 
mantown,  and  had  exclaimed  with  tragic  pathos  that-  the  present 
historian  was  "  gone."  He  was  truly  "  gone  "  when  the  enemy 
arrived — gone  from  that  redoubt  and  destined  to  be  hungry  and 
outflanked  at  Centreville. 

The  Revolutionnaires  had  but  an  insignificant  part  in  the  great 
battle  of  Manassas.  The  "  little  General  "  intended  them  to  bear 
the  brunt,  and  placed  them  in  the  centre  at  Mitchell's  Ford.  From 
this  position  they  saw  the  splendid  spectacle  of  the  Federal 
Cavalry  dividing  right  and  left  to  unmask  the  artillery  which 
speedily  opened  hotly — but  beyond  this  shelling  they  were  not 
assailed.  Caissons  blew  up  all  around,  and  trees  crashed  down  ; 


392  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

but  the  blue  infantry  did  not  charge  the  breastworks.  Then 
Beauregard  resolved  to  advance  himself  with  the  Kevolu- 
tionnaires  and  Bonham  straight  on  Centreville,  and  sent  the  order 
— but  it  never  arrived.  Thus  the  "  Third  "  was  cheated  of  the 
glory  wllich  they  would  have  won  in  this  great  movement ;  and 
despite  the  shells  which  burst  for  four  days  in  the  trenches,  they 
are  not  entitled  to  inscribe  "  Manassas  "  on  their  flag. 

Two  days  after  the  battle  they  were  ordered  to  advance  with 
General  Bonham  to  Yienna.  All  obeyed  but  the  "  Third,"  which 
being  seized  with  a  violent  desire  to  go  to  Alexandria  instead  of 
Vienna,  gave  the  rest  the  slip,  joined  Colonel  Jeb  Stuart's  column 
of  cavalry  and  infantry,  going  toward  Fairfax,  and  never  stop 
ped  until  they  reached  that  village,  wherein  they  had  mac^e  a 
number  of  most  charming  friends.  They  made  their  reentrance 
amid  waving  handkerchiefs  from  the  friends  alluded  to,  and 
cheering  joyously — but  were  speedily  desired  to  explain  their  pre 
sence  in  the  column  of  Colonel  Stuart,  who  thus  found  himself  in 
command  of  a  surplus  gun,  of  which  he  knew  nothing.  The  pre 
sent  writer  at  once  repaired  to  the  Colonel's  headquarters,  which 
consisted  of  a  red  blanket  spread  under  an  oak.  explained  the 
wishes  of  the  "  Third,"  and  begged  permission  to  accompany 
him  to  Washington.  The  young  Colonel  smiled :  he  was  evi 
dently  pleased.  We  should  go,  he  declared — he  required  artillery, 
and  would  have  it.  The  "  Chief"  received  this  reply  with  ex 
treme  satisfaction ;  put  his  gun  in  battery  to  rake  the  approach 
from  Annandale;  and  was  just  retiring  to  his  blanket,  with  the 
luxury  of  a  good  conscience,  when  an  order  came  from  General 
Bonham  to  repair  with  the  gun,  before  morning,  to  Vienna !  The 
General  ranked  the  Colonel :  more  still,  the  gun  was  a  part  of  the 
General's  command.  With  heavy  hearts  the  "  Third  "  set  out 
through  the  darkness  for  the  village  to  which  they  were  ordered. 

As  the  writer  is  not  composing  a  log-book  of  his  voyages 
through  those  early  seas,  he  will  only  say  that-  at  Vienna  the 
Eevolutionnaires  saw  for  the  first  time  the  enemy's  balloons  hover 
ing  above  the  woods ;  turned  out  more  than  once,  with  ardour, 
when  Bonham's  pickets  fired  into  Stuart's;  and  smoked  their 
pipes  with  an  assiduity  that  was  worthy  of  high  commendation. 


ANNALS  OF    "  THE  THIRD."  393 

Soon  the  order  came  to  move  ;  they  hung  their  knapsacks  with 
energy  upon  the  guns,  for  the  horses  to  pull,  and  thus  returned 
to  Centreville,  where  they  were  ordered  to  join  the  hard-fight 
ing  Colonel  Evans  at  Leesburg. 

At  the  name  of  Leesburg,  every  hearl  of  the  "  Noble  Third  " 
still  beating,  will  beat  faster.  Leesburg!  Paradise  of  the  youth- 
fall  warrior  !  dear  still  to  the  heart  of  him  who  writes,  and  to  all 
his  brave  companions !  Land  of  excellent  edibles,  and  beautiful 
maidens!  of  eggs  and  romance,  of  good  dinners  and  lovely 
faces!  No  sooner  had  the  ardent  cannoneers  reached  camp,  and 
pitched  their  tents,  than  they  hastened  into  Leesburg  to  "  spy 
out  the  land."  .The  reconnoissance  was  eminently  satisfactory. 
The  report  brought  back  by  the  scouts  thus  thrown  forward,  repre 
sented  the  place  as  occupied  in  force  by  an  enemy  of  the  most 
attractive  description — and  from  that  time  to  the  period  of  their 
abrupt  departure,  the  brave  young  artillerists  were  engaged  in 
continuous  skirmishes  with  their  fair  faces,  not  seldom  to  their 
own  discomfiture. 

When  the  "  Third  "  with  another  detachment  went  to  camp  at 
Big  Spring,  in  a  beautiful  grove,  they  applied  themselves  to  the 
military  duties  above  specified  with  astonishing  ardor.  The 
number  of  horses  which  required  shoeing  at  the  blacksmith's  in 
town  was  incredible ;  and  such  was  their  anxiety  to  rush  to 
combat,  that  the  young  soldiers  surreptitiously  knocked  shoes 
from  the  horses'  feet,  to  be  "  ordered  to  the  front,"  toward  the 
foe. 

The  Revolutionnaires  had  a  little  skirmish  about  this  time  with 
the  Federal  force  at  White's  Ferry,  and  the  "  Third  "  had  the  sat 
isfaction  of  setting  a  house  or  barn  on  fire  with  shell,  and  burst 
ing  others  in  the  midst  of  a  blue  regiment.  These  exploits  were 
performed  with  a  loss  of  one  man  only,  wounded  by  sharpshoot 
ers  ;  the  "  Third  "  having  dodged  the  rest^bf  the  enemy's  bullets 
with  entire  success.  They  were  highly  pleased  with  the  result 
of  the  combat,  and  soon  afterwards  were  called  to  new  fields  of 
glory.  This  time  the  locality  was  at  Loudoun  Heights,  opposite 
Harper's  Ferry ;  and  having  dragged  their  gun  up  the  rugged 
mountain  road  with  great  difficulty,  they  opened  from  the  sum- 


394  WEARING   OF  THE  GRAY. 

mit  at  the  moment  when  the  brave  Ashby  charged.  The  result 
was  cheering.  Ashby  sent  word  that  the  shells  were  falling 
among  his  own  troops,  but  directed  the  fire  to  proceed — it  was 
admirable :  and  thus  encouraged,  the  "  Third  "  continued  at  their 
post  until  the  enemy's  batteries  on  Maryland  Heights  had  gotten 
our  range,  and  their  rifle  shell  began  to  tear  the.  ground  near  by. 
Concluding  that  the  distance  was  too  great  to  render  a  reply 
necessary,  the  "  Third  "  came  away  soon  after  this — but  the  order 
to  retire  had  been  previously  given,  and  the  piece  did  not  move 
off  at  a  faster  gait  than  a  rapid  trot — it  might  have  been  a  gallop. 

This  little  affair  was  in  October,  and  on  our  return  to  Leesburg 
the  enemy  were  preparing  to  cross  and  attack  us.  General  Evans 
put  on  the  road  to  Edwards'  Ferry  all  the  guns,  with  the  ex 
ception  of  the  "  Third,"  which  was  sent  with  the  Eighth  Virginia 
regiment  to  repel  an  assault  from  General  McCall,  who  was  ap 
proaching  Goose  Creek,  on  our  right,  with  a  Division,  and  twelve 
pieces  of  artillery.  The  u  Third  "  undertook  this  with  alacrity, 
and  remained  in  position  at  the  "  Burnt  Bridge"  with  ardour, 
hoping  that  the  enemy  would  have  the  temerity  to  approach. 
He  did  not  do  so,  and  at  mid-day  General  Evans  sent  down  for 
the  regiment  and  the  gun,  and  ordered  them  at  "double-quick" 
and  "  trot-march  "  to  the  vicinity  of  Ball's  Bluff.  The  regiment 
—the  Eighth  Virginia— was  ordered  to  "drive  the  enemy  from 
those  woods,"  and  the  "  Third  "  was  directed  to  open  fire,  "  when 
the  Eighth  fell  back."  Owing  to  the  circumstance  that  the 
Eighth  never  fell  back,  this  order  was  not  carried  out,  and  the 
Rzvolutionnaires  in  general  had  no  part  in  one  of  the  most  des 
perate  and  gallant  battles  of  the  whole  war.  For  the  second 
time  they  were  held  in  reserve,  in  a  great  combat,  and  they 
chafed  at  it:  but  the  enenry  in  Leesburg  remained  to  be  con 
quered,  and  after  the  battle,  they  immediately  commenced  attend 
ing  to  the  deficiency  of  horseshoes  as  before. 

These  raids  upon  the  territory  of  the  foe  were  now  made  from 
their  camp  at  "Fort  Evans,"  on  the  hill.  Fort  Evans  was  on 
the  top  of  a  commanding  eminence.  Looking  northward,  you 
beheld  the  winding  Potomac,  and  on  the  upland  beyond,  were 
seen  the  tents  of  the  enemy,  and  their  watch-fires  at  night — their 


ANNALS   OF    "  THE   THIRD."  395 

tattoo  and  reveille  being  heard  distinctly,  and  affording  an  eco 
nomical  measurement  of  time  to  their  foes.  East,  south,  and 
west,  was  a  beautiful  country  of  field,  and  forest,  and  meadow, 
and  hill — and  Leesburg  rose  with  its  white  houses  and  spires,  in 
the  midst  of  it,  about  a  mile  away. 

Thus  the  Revolutionnaires  had  around  them  all  the  elements 
of  comfort.  An  enemy  to  reconnoitre  through  spy-glasses,  across 
the  river,  and  another  enemy  in  the  town  to  keep  up  a  brisk  as 
sault  upon.  Many  "solitary  horsemen"  were  seen  at  sunset  and 
other  hours,  dotting  the  road  which  led  to  the  borough ; — and 
these  returned  in  various  moods,  as  "  the  day  "  had  been  adverse 
or  triumphal  for  them.  They  delivered  battle  with  astonishing 
regularity,  and  looked  after  the  shoeing  of  the  artillery  horses 
with  an  efficiency  which  reflected  the  highest  credit  on  the 
corps. 

In  the  performance  of  this  duty  the  "  Third  "  was  not  behind 
its  companions — indeed  took  the  lead.  To  smoke  pipes  and  at 
tack  the  enemy  in  Leesburg  were  the  chosen  occupations  of  the 
"  Third."  To  dress  in  full  costume  for  battle— with  white  col 
lar,  and  dress  uniform — seemed  indeed  the  chief  happiness  of 
these  ardent  young  warriors:  and  then  they  lost  no  time  in  ad 
vancing  upon  the  foe.  When  circumstances  compelled  them  to 
remain  inactive  at  Fort  Evans  for  a  day  or  days,  they  grew  mel 
ancholy  and  depressed.  Their  pipes  still  sent  up  white  clouds  of 
smoke — but  the  ashes  were  strewed  upon  their  heads. 

"Fort  Evans  "  was  not  an  inspiring  locality.  The  view  was 
superb  ;  but  the  wind  always  blowing  there,  nearly  removed  the 
hair  from  the  head,  and  the  mud  was  of  incredible  depth  and 
tenacity.  In  addition  to  this.  Fort  Evans  got  all  the  rain  and 
snow.  But  these  were  provided  against.  A  distinguished  trait 
of  the  Revolutionnaires  was  a  strong  propensity  for  making  them 
selves  comfortable ;  and  they  soon  discovered  that,  in  winter  at 
least,  tents  were  vanity  and  vexation  of  body.  From  the  real 
ization  of  the  want,  there  was  only  a  step  to  the  resolution  to 
supply  it.  They  cut  down  trees,  and  hauled  the  logs ;  tore 
down  deserted  houses,  and  brought  away  the  plank  ;  carried  off 
old  stoves,  and  war-worn  tables,  and  then  set  to  work.  A  log 


396  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

hut  rose  suddenly— the  abode  of  the  "Brigand  of  the  Cliff," 
who  was  a  most  excellent  companion  and  uncommonly  jovial 
for  a  bandit — many  plank  cabins  were  grouped  near  it,  stoves 
were  set  up,  log  chimneys  built,  and  the  bold  Revolutionnaires 
were  in  winter  quarters. 

Fort  Evans  was  in  process  of  construction  anew,  under  the 
supervision  of  General  D.  H.  Hill — and  the  workmen  were  en 
couraged  by  the  presence  and  approval  of  the  "  Third "  and 
their  companions.  They  rarely  failed  to  visit  it  several  times  a 
day ;  and  generously  instructed  General  Hill's  engineer  how  to 
lay  it  out  without  charge.  They  did  not  mind  the  deep  mud, 
and  perseveringly  remained  for  hours,  looking  on  while  the  in 
fantry  "  detail "  worked.  Personne,  one  of  the  "  Third,"  super 
intended  the  filling  and  revetting — and  it  was  whispered  around 
that  the  General  had  assured  him  that  "  This  work  would  remain 
to  speak  of  him."  At  this  the  worthy  Personne  is  said  to  have 
smiled  as  only  he  could  smile.  He  no  doubt  does  so  still. 

In  these  virtuous  and  useful  occupations — mingled  with  much 
smoking,  and  close  attention  to  horseshoes — the  hours  and  days 
sped  away,  there  near  Leesburg,  in  the  fall  and  winter  of  the 
good  year  1861,  Posted  on  the  far  Potomac  there,  to  guard  the 
frontier,  the  "  Third  "  and  their  companions  had  a  large  amount 
of  time  upon  their  hands  which  it  was  necessary  to  dispose  of. 
Sometimes  the  enemy  opposite  amused  them — as  when  they  ran 
a  gun  down  to  the  river,  and  in  a  spirit  of  careless  enjoyment, 
knocked  a  hole  with  a  round  shot  in  the  gable  end  of  the  abode 
of  the  "  Brigand  of  the  Cliff."  But  these  lively  moments  were 
the  exception.  The  days  generally  passed  by  without  incident ; 
and  when  debarred  from  visiting  Leesburg,  the  Revolutionnaires 
visited  each  other. 

Among  gentlemen  so  well-bred  as  themselves  there  was  no 
neglect  of  the  amenities  of  life.  You  never  entered  a  cabin,  but 
the  owner  rose  and  offered  you  the  best  seat.  You  never  got 
up  to  depart,  but  you  were  feelingly  interrogated  as  to  the  occa 
sion  of  your  "  hurry,"  and  exhorted  to  remain.  If  boxes  came 
from  home,  their  contents  were  magnanimously  distributed  ; 
when  anybody  got  leave  of  absence,  which  was  exceedingly 


ANNALS   OF    "  THE   THIRD."  397 

seldom,  his  return  was  greeted  with  acclamations — perhaps  be 
cause  the  transaction  was  a  good  precedent.  Lounging  was  the 
habittfal  amusement,  except  when  they  aroused  themselves  to 
contend  with  the  enemy — at  Leesburg.  The  town  was  their 
favourite  arena  for  combat.  They  delighted  to  visit,  and  early 
established  a  dining  acquaintance  there — selecting  those  houses 
where,  between  the  courses,  they  could  gaze  into  fair  eyes,  and 
"  tempt  their  fate."  When  they  returned  after  these  expeditions 
in  search  of  horseshoes,  they  revelled  in  descriptions  of  ham 
and  turkey  and  dessert — making  ration-beef  tougher,  and  camp 
flat-cake  more  like  lead  than  ever.  On  the  main  street  of  Lees- 
burg,  near  Pickett's  tavern,  the  "  Third  "  especially  congregated. 
They  wore  the  snowiest  shirt  bosoms,  the  bluest  gray  jackets, 
and  the  reddest  cuffs  imaginable.  Thus  armed  to  the  teeth,  and 
clad  for  war  and  conquest,  they  would  separate  in  search  of 
young  ladies,  and  return  at  evening  with  the  most  glowing  ac 
counts  of  their  adventures. 


II. 

A  glance  at  the  headquarters  of  the  "  Third,"  and  a  brief 
notice  of  one  of  those  worthies,  may  prove  of  interest  to  the  de 
scendants  of  these  doughty  Revolutionnaires. 

They  dwelt  in  three  or  four  cabins  of  considerable  size,  con 
structed  of  plank — the  middle  and  largest  one  being  the  head 
quarters  of  their  commander.  These  cabins  were  warmed  by 
old  stoves,  obtained  on  the  Eob  Roy  principle  from  deserted 
houses ;  and  were  fitted  up  with  berths,  popularly  known  as 
"  bunks,"  filled  with  straw.  The  space  above  the  cornice  afford 
ed  an  excellent  shelf  for  clothes,  which  were  then  economically 
washed  whenever  it  rained — but  the  great  feature  of  the  head 
quarter  mansion  was  the  crevice  at  the  summit  of  the  roof. 
This  permitted  the  smoke  to  escape  without  difficulty,  and  on 
windy  nights  when  others  were  suffering,  ventilated  the  apart 
ment  superbly.  Nor  did  the  advantages  stop  there.  The  crev 
ice  was  no  mere  crack,  but  an  honest  opening;  and  when  a 


398  WEARING   OF   THE   GRAY. 

snow-storm  came  on,  the  snow  entered  without  difficulty,  driving 
downward,  and  enveloping  the  sleepers  in  its  close  white  mantle. 
As  the  warmth  which  snow  communicates  to  a  sleeper  is  well 
known,  this  circumstance  will  be  duly  appreciated. 

From  the  headquarters  let  us  pass  to  the  inhabitants.  The 
"  Third,"  as  I  have  said,  were  a  gay  and  social  set,  and  possessed 
of  many  peculiarities,  which  their  "  Chief,"  sitting  apart  with  a 
borrowed  volume  (from  Leesburg)  in  his  hand,  was  accustomed 
to  watch  with  a  covert  smile.  A  marked  feature  of  the  young 
warriors  was  their  devotion  to  the  habit  of  eating.  Rations 
were  ample  and  excellent  then,  but  they  did  not  satisfy  the 
youths.  They  foraged  persistently :  brought  back  eggs,  butter, 
pies,  every  delicacy ;  and  these  they  as  persistently  consumed. 
They  always  ate  butter  all  day  long,  toasting  slices  of  bread 
upon  the  roaring  stove  with  a  perseverance  that  was  truly  ad 
mirable.  The  announcement  of  dinner  by  the  polite  mulatto 
who  officiated  as  cook,  was  uniformly  received  with  rapture ; 
and  the  appearance  of  a  "box  from  home"  supplied  the  for 
tunate  possessor  with  the  largest  and  most  affectionate  circle  of 
visiting  friends. 

Among  the  u  characters  "  of  the  detachment,  Corporal  Per 
son  ne,  my  gunner — he  who  superintended  the  construction  of 
the  breastworks — occupied  a  prominent  place.  He  was  tall  and 
gaunt,  with  a  portentous  moustache  ;  had  the  imposing  air  of  a 
Field-Marshal  on  parade,  and  a  fund  of  odd  humour  that  was 
inexhaustible.  To  hear  Personne  laugh  was  to  experience  an 
irresistible  desire  to  do  likewise ;  to  listen  while  he  talked  was 
better  than  to  attend  a  theatrical  performance.  Personne  rarely 
relaxed  into  that  commonplace  deportment  which  characterizes 
the  great  mass  of  dull  humanity.  He  could  not  have  been  dull 
even  if  he  had  tried,  and  his  very  melancholy  was  humorous. 
In  his  tone  of  voice  and  hearing  he  was  sui  generis — "  whole  in 
himself  and  due  to  none."  All  his  utterances  were  solemn  and 
impressive  ;  his  air  deeply  serious — when  he  laughed  he  seemed 
to  do  so  under  protest.  He  generally  went,  away  after  laugh 
ing;  no  doubt  to  mourn  over  his  levity  in  private.  One  of 
Personne's  peculiarities  was  a  very  great  fondness  for  cant 


0  ANNALS   OF    "THE   THIKD."  399 

phrases,  and  odd  turns  of  expression.  These  afforded  him  undis 
guised  delight,  and  he  handled  them  with  the  air  of  a  master. 
He  was  never  known  to  ask  for  smoking  tobacco  in  any  other 
words  than,  "  Produce  the  damned  invention  !  "  which  he  uttered 
with  a  truly  terrific  scowl,  and  an  accent  of  wrath  which  was 
calculated  to  strike  terrour  to  the  stoutest  heart.  A  form  of 
logic  in  which  he  evidently  reposed  the  fullest  faith  was,  "  An 
ought's  an  ought — a  figure's  a  figure — therefore  you  owe  me  a 
dollar  and  a  half;  "  and  another  mysterious  phrase,  "  Speak  to 
me.  Gimlet,"  was  a  fund  of  unending  enjoyment  to  him.  His 
comparison  of  distance  was,  "  As  far  as  a  blue- winged  pigeon 
can  fly  in  six  months ;  "  his  measure  of  cold  was,  "  Cold  enough 
to  freeze  the  brass  ears  on  a  tin  monkey ;  "  his  favourite  oath, 
"Now,  by  the  gods  who  dwell  on  high  Olympus!"  and  his 
desire  for  a  furlough  was  uniformly  urged  upon  the  ground  that 
he  wished  to  "  go  home  and  see  his  first  wife's  relations." 

Personne  was  thus  the  victim  of  a  depraved  taste  for  slang, 
but  he  was  a  scholar  and  a  gentleman — a  travelled  man  and  a 
very  elegant  writer.  When  the  war  broke  out  he  was  residing 
in  New  York ;  but  at  the  call  of  Virginia,  his  native  State,  he 
had  left  all  the  delights  of  Broadway  and  the  opera ;  abandoned 
bright  waistcoats,  gay  neckties,  and  fine  boots,  to  put  on  the 
regulation  gray,  and  go  campaigning  with  the  Revolutionnaires. 
The  contrast  was  great,  but  Personne  did  not  grumble ;  he 
adapted  himself  to  his  new  sphere  with  the  air  of  a  philospher. 
It  was  only  at  long  intervals  that  he  spoke  of  his  travels — only 
occasionally  that  he  broke  forth  with  some  opera  air  heard  at  the 
Academy  of  Music,  and  now  hummed  with  great  taste  arid  deli 
cacy.  He  supplied  the  stage  action  to  these  musical  airs,  but 
his  powers  in  that  department  were  defective.  The  perform 
ance,  it  is  sufficient  to  say,  would  have  done  honour  to  a — wind 
mill. 

To  witness  Personne  in  the  character  of  "Sergeant  of  the 
Guard  "  was  a  superb  spectacle.  The  stern  and  resolute  air 
with  which  he  marshalled  his  guard  ;  the  hoarse  and  solemn 
tones  in  which  he  called  the  roll ;  the  fierce  determination  with 
which  he  took  command,  and  marched  them  to  their  post,  was 


400  WEARING    OF    THE    GRAY. 

enough  to  "  tickle  the  ribs  of  death."  Once  having  posted  them, 
Personne  returned  as  solemnly  to  his  quarters,  from  which  soon 
afterwards  would  be  heard  his  low  guttural  laugh.  The  great 
tableau,  however,  was  Personne  in  Leesburg,  mounted.  He 
was  a  study  at  such  moments,  and  attracted  general  attention. 
He  sat  sternly  erect  upon  his  horse,  never  indulged  in  a  smile 
even,  and  had  the  air  of  a  Field-Marshal  at  the  head  of  an  army. 
It  was  only  when  he  entered  the  presence  of  the  ladies  that  his 
brows  unbent,  his  features  relaxed.  With  these  he  was  a  very 
great  favourite,  and  he  cultivated  their  regard  in  a  manner 
which  exhibited  a  profound  knowledge  of  human  nature.  A 
proof  of  this  assertion  is  here  given.  One  day  Personne,  with  a 
friend  of  his,  went  forth  on  a  foraging  expedition,  rations  gun 
ning  low,  and  appetite  rising.  But  the  neighbourhood  had 
been  ransacked  by  a  whole  brigade,  and  by  what  device  could 
they  operate  upon  the  female  heart  ?  Personne  found  the  device 
he  wished,  and  proceeded  to  execute  it,  having  first  drilled  his 
friend  in  the  part  assigned  him.  Before  them  was  a  modest 
mansion ;  through  the  window  were  seen  the  faces  of  young 
ladies ;  the  friends  entered  the  yard,  bowed  politely,  and  lay 
down  upon  the  grass.  Then  the  following  dialogue  took  place 
in  the  hearing  of  the  ladies  : 

PERSONNE,  carelessly. — "  A  charming  day,  my  friend  ;  hum — 
what  were  you  saying  ?  " 

FRIEND,  with  deference. — "  I  was  saying,  Mr.  Personne,  that  the 
remarkable  feature  in  the  present  war  is  the  rank  and  character 
of  the  men  who  have  embarked  in  it — on  the  Southern  side — as 
privates.  Take  yourself,  for  instance.  You  belong  to  one  of  the 
first  families  of  Mississippi ;  you  have  three  or  four  plantations  : 
you  are  worth  very  nearly  half  a  million  of  dollars — and  here 
you  are,  serving  in  the  ranks  as  a  private  soldier." 

PERSONNE,  with  an  air  of  careless  grandeur. — "  No  matter  !  no 
matter !  The  cause  is  everything.  My  estates  must  take  care 
of  themselves  for  the  present,  and  I  expect  to  live  hard  and  fight 
hard,  and  starve — as  we  are  doing  to-day,  my  friend.  When 
the  war  is  over,  things  will  be  different.  I  intend  to  enjoy  my 
self,  to  live  in  luxury — above  all,  to  marry  some  charming 


ANNALS  OF    "  THE   THIRD."  401 

creature — and  I  am  now  looking  out  for  one  to  suit  me.  I  do 
not  ask  riches,  my  friend ;  a  plain  country  girl  would  please 
me  best — one  who  is  warm-hearted  and  kind  to  the  soldier !  " 

A  few  moments  afterwards  a  smiling  face  appeared  at  the 
door ;  a  pair  of  female  lips  said,  "  "Walk  in,  gentlemen  ; "  and 
starting  from  a  deep  reverie  into  which  he  had  fallen,  Personne 
rose,  bowed,  and  accepted  the  invitation,  bowing  low  again 
as  he  entered,  with  his  lofty  air  of  Field-Marshal.  Is  it  necessary 
to  continue  the  narrative,  to  say  that  Personne  and  his  friend 
nearly  produced  a  famine,  and  when  they  retired  had  their 
haversacks  filled  with  every  delicacy  ?  It  was  only  when  well 
beyond  earshot  that  he  laughed  his  low  laugh,  and  exclaimed 
with  solemn  earnestness,  "  Now  by  the  gods  that  dwell  on  high 
Olympus  ! — we  are  in  luck  to-day  !  " 

Such  was  Personne,  the  pride  of -the  "  Third,"  the  object  of 
the  admiring  affection  and  regard  of  all  the  Revolutionnaires ! 
The  writer  designed  drawing  more  than  one  additional  portrait  of 
odd  characters  in  his  old  detachment,  but  the  figure  of  Personne 
has  pushed  all  others  from  the  canvas — the  brush  moves  in  the 
air.  That  canvas,  it  may  be,  perchance,  is  already  too  exten 
sive  ;  not  every  one  will  find  in  these  familiar  recollections  of  the 
"  Third  "  that  interest  which  the  writer  does  ;  and  terrible  is  the 
crime  of  producing  yawns !  Do  you  think  you  never  wearied 
anybody,  my  dear  reader,  with  your  recollections  ?  Do  you  fancy 
that  your  past  amuses  others  as  it  amuses  you  ?  But,  for  fear  this 
mass  of  logic  will  rebound  upon  the  head  of  him  who  sets  it 
in  motion,  the  "Annals  of  the  Third  "  are  here  concluded. 

As  he  closes  up  those  Annals,  and  sets  forward  on  his  way, 
the  writer  waves  his  hat  in  friendly  farewell,  salutes  each  one, 
and  calls  out,  "  Good-by,  Personne  ! — good- by,  warriors  of  the 
'  Noble  Third ! ' — all  health  and  happiness  attend  you  in  the 
coming  years ! — and  never  call  your  old  commander  anything 
but  '  Sergeant ! '  " 

26 


IX. 

BLMDERBUS  ON  PICKET. 


SCENE.  —  Banks  of  the  Rappahannock^  in  the  winter  of  1862-3  ;  a 
camp-fire  blazing  under  an  oak,  and  Captain  Blunderbus  con 
versing  with  a  Staff  Officer  on  inspection  duty  —  the  picket  stationed 
near,  and  opposite  the 


BLUNDERBUS  loquitur.  —  "  This  is  pleasant  —  picketing  always 
is.  Uncommonly  dark,  however  —  the  night  black  but  comely, 
and  that  frosty  moon  yonder  trying  to  shine,  and  dance  on  the 
ripples  of  the  river  !  Don't  you  think  it  would  look  better  if 
you  saw  it  from  the  porch  at  home,  with  Mary  or  Fanny  by 
your  side  ? 

"  Picturesque,  but  not  warm.  Pile  on  the  rails,  my  boy  ;  never 
mind  the  expense.  The  Confederacy  pays  —  or  don't  pay  —  for 
all  the  fences  ;  and  nothing  warms  the  feet,  expands  the  soul, 
and  makes  the  spirits  cheerful  like  a  good  rail-fire,  I  was  reading 
in  an  old  paper,  the  other  day,  some  poetry-writing  which  they 
said  was  found  on  the  body  of  one  of  Stone  wall's  sergeants  at 
Winchester  —  a  song  he  called  'Jackson's  Way.'  He  tells  his 
comrades  to  '  pile  on  the  rails,'  and  says, 

"  '  No  matter  if  the  canteen  fails, 
We'll  make  a  roaring  light  !  ' 

Sensible  —  and  speaking  of  canteens,  is  there  anything  in  yours, 
my  boy?  Nothing.  Such  is  fate! 

"  I  was  born  unlucky,  and  always  will  be  so.  Now  a  drop  of 
brandy  would  not  have  been  bad  to-night  ;  or  say  a  mouthful 


BLUNDERBUS   ON   PICKET.  403 

of  whiskey,  or  a  little  apple  or  peach-brandy,  gin,  madeira, 
sherry,  claret,  or  even  bottled  porter,  crab-cider  or  champagne ! 
Any  of  these  would  have  communicated  a  charm  to  existence, 
which — wanting  them — it  lacks. 

"  But  let  us  be  content  with  what  we  have,  and  accept  all  for 
tunes  as  they  come !  If  ever  you  hear  people  say  that  Blunder- 
bus  is  a  mere  trooper,  old  fellow — that  he  cares  for  nothing  but 
eating  and  drinking,  and  sleeping— just  tell  'em  you  heard  him 
express  that  fine  sentiment,  and  they  will  think  better  of  him. 
You  see  I'm  a  philosopher,  like  yourself,  and  I  don't  let  trifles 
get  the  better  of  me.  The  soul  superior  to  misfortune  is  a  noble 
spectacle,  and  warms  the  heart  of  the  beholder  like  generous 
wine.  I  wish  I  had  some. 

"  I  think,  however,  I  prefer  this  water.  Now  that  I  observe  it, 
it  is  excellent — with  a  body  to  it,  a  flavour,  a  sweetness,  and 
stimulating  effect  which  I  never  noticed  before.  And  then  our 
fire  !  Just  look  at  it !  You're  an  old  hand  at  rails,  I'll  be  will 
ing  to  bet — for  you  fix  'em  on  the  fire  with  the  art  of  a  master. 
What  a  glorious  sight  to  see  !  How  it  warms  the  soul ! 

"  I  observe  that  the  Yankee  pickets  over  yonder  have  a  miser 
able  fire — made  of  green  wood,  doubtless,  and  smouldering.  I 
was  looking  at  them  just  now  through  my  glass,  and  I  am  glad 
to  say  one  of  the  blue-coats  was  slapping  his  arms  violently 
against  his  breast  to  keep  up  the  circulation.  Pleasant ;  for  if 
anything  can  increase  the  comfort  of  a  fire  like  this,  it  is  the 
consciousness  that  our  friends  over  the  way  are  shivering  by 
one  that  won't  burn. 

;c  I  believe  I  will  smoke.  Nothing  assists  intellectual  conversa 
tion  like  a  pipe.  Help  yourself.  You  will  find  that  pouch — 
Yankee  plunder  from  Manassas  last  August — full  of  the  real 
article,  and  the  best  you  ever  smoked.  It  is  real,  pure  Lynch- 
burg — brown,  free  from  stems,  and  perfumed  with  the  native 
aroma  of  the  weed.  Smoke,  guest  of  mine!  That  brand  is 
warranted  to  drive  off  all  blue-devils — to  wrap  the  soul  in  Elysian 
dreams  of  real  Java  coffee,  English  boots,  French  wines,  and  no 
blockade.  There  are  men,  I  am  told,  who  don't  smoke.  I  pity 
'em  !  How  do  they  sustain  existence,  or  talk  or  think  ?  All 


40-1  WEARING   OF   THE   GRAY. 

real  philosophers  use  the  magical  weed  ;  and  I  always  thought 
Raleigh,  when  I  used  to  read  about  him,  the  most  sensible  man 
of  his  time,  because  he  smoked.  I  have  no  doubt  Shakespeare 
carried  a  pipe  about,  and  wrote  his  plays  with  it  in  his  mouth. 

"  I'll  trouble  you  to  hand  me  that  chunk  when  you  are  done 
with  it.  Thank  you.  Now  the  summit  glows  ;  the  mysterious 
depths  are  illumined.  All  right ;  I  am  lit. 

"  This  is  soothing ;  all  care  departs  when  you  smoke  a  good 
pipe.  Existence  assumes  a  smiling  and  bright  aspect ;  all  things 
are  rose-coloured.  I  find  my  spirits  rising,  my  sympathies  ex 
panding,  even  until  they  embrace  the  whole  Yankee  nation. 
This  is  an  excellent  root  I  am  leaning  my  back  against — I  never 
knew  a  rocking-chair  more  agreeable.  Our  fire  is  magnificent ; 
and  observe  the  picturesque  effect  of  the  enemy's  blaze  reflected 
in  the  stream ! 

"The  enemy!  Who  knows  if  that  is  fair?  Perhaps  that 
good  fellow  over  there,  who  was  slapping  his  arms,  I  am  sorry 
to  say,  just  now,  by  way  of  restoring  the  circulation  and  keeping 
himself  warm,  came  here  to  fight  us  against  his  will !  Honest 
fellows !  who  blames  them  ?  They  are  unfortunate,  and  I  sym 
pathize  with  them.  I  observe  that  the  fire  over  yonder,  which 
our  friends  have  kindled,  burns  feebly,  and  doubtless  is  fed  with 
green  wood.  We  could  spare  them  a  few  rails,  eh  ?  But  then 
to  communicate  with  them  is  against  orders. 

"  I  believe  they  come  down  here  from  pure  curiosity,  and 
rather  like  to  be  taken  prisoner.  But  it  takes  a  good  deal  to 
feed  them.  We  want  all  our  provisions.  Often  I  have  been 
nearly  starved,  and  I  assure  you  starving  is  a  disagreeable  pro 
cess.  I  have  tried  it  several  times,  and  I  can  tell  you  where  I 
first  experienced  the  sensation  in  full  force.  At  Mauassas,  in 
July,  1861. 

"I  was  in  the  artillery  then,  and  had  command  of  a  gun, 
which  gun  was  attached  to  a  battery,  which  battery  was  a  part 
of  General  Bonham's  brigade.  Now  General  Bonham  com 
manded  the  advance  force  of  Beauregard's  "army,  and  was  sta 
tioned  at  the  village  of  Fairfax.  Well,  we  had  a  gay  time  at 
Fairfax  in  those  early  months  of  the  war,  playing  at  soldiering, 


BLUNDERBUS  ON  PICKET.  405 

and  laughing  at  the  enemy  for  not  advancing.  The  red  cuffs  of 
the  artillery,  the  yellow  of  the  cavalry,  and  the  blue  of  the  infan 
try,  were  all  popular  in  the  eyes  of  the  village  beauties,  and 
rarely  did  anything  of  a  melancholy  character  interfere  with  our 
pleasures.  Sometimes  a  cavalry-man  would  be  shot  on  picket — - 
as  we  may  be  to-night,  old  fellow ;  and  I  remember  once  a 
noble  boy  of  the  *  Black  Horse,'  or  Bedford's  regiment,  was 
brought  back  dead,  wrapped  in  an  oil-cloth  which  his  sister  had 
taken  from  her  piano  and  given  him  to  sleep  on.  Poor  thing ! 
she  must  have  cried  when  she  heard  of  that ;  but  there  has  been 
a  good  deal  of  crying  during  the  present  war. 

"  Kick  that  rail-end  up.  It  makes  me  melancholy  to  see  a  fire 
dying  down.  Well,  we  had  a  pleasant  time  in  the  small  village 
of  Fairfax,  until  one  July  day  my  gun  was  ordered  to  a  breast 
work  not  far  off,  and  I  heard  that  the  '  Grand  Army '  was 
coming.  Now  I  was  thinking  about  the  Commissary  depart 
ment  when  I  heard  this  news,  for  we  had  had  nothing  to  eat  for 
a  day  nearly  ;  but  I  went  to  work,  finishing  the  embrasure  for 
my  piece.  Bags  marked  '  The  Confederate  States '  were  filled 
with  sand  and  piled  up  skilfully  ;  trees  obstructing  the  range 
were  chopped  down  rapidly  ;  and  then,  stepping  off  the  ground 
from  the  earthwork  to  the  woods  from  which  the  enemy  would 
issue,  I  had  the  pleasure  of  perceiving  that  the  foe  would  be 
compelled  to  pass  over  at  least  four  hundred  and  thirty  yards 
before  reaching  me  with  the  bayonet.  Now  in  four  hundred 
and  thirty  yards  you  can  fire,  before  an  enemy  gets  up  to  you, 
about  one  round  of  solid  shot,  and  two  rounds  of  canister — say 
three  of  canister.  I  depended,  therefore,  upon  three  rounds  of 
canister  to  drive  back  the  Grand  Army,  and  undertook  it  with 
alacrity.  I  continued  hungry,  however,  and  grew  hungrier  as 
night  fell,  on  the  16th  July. 

"  At  daylight  I  was  waked  by  guns  in  front,  and  found  my 
self  hungrier  than  ever.  At  sunrise  a  gentleman  on  a  white 
horse  passed  by  at  a  gallop,  with  the  cheerful  words :  *  Gentle 
men,  the  enemy  are  upon  you  ! '  and  the  cannoneers  were  ranged 
at  the  gun,  with  the  infantry  support  disposed  upon  the  flanks. 
All  was  ready,  the  piece  loaded,  the  lanyard-hook  passed 


406  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

through  the  ring  of  the  primer,  and  the  sharpshooters  of  the 
enemy  had  appeared  on  the  edge  of  the  woods,  when  they  sent 
us  an  order  to  retire.  We  accordingly  retired,  and  continued  to 
retire  until  we  reached  Centreville,  halting  on  the  hill  there. 
We  were  posted  in  battery  there,  and  lay  down — very  hungry. 
A  cracker  I  had  borrowed  did  not  allay  hunger ;  and  had  a 
dozen  Yankees  been  drawn  up  between  me  and  a  hot  supper,  I 
should  have  charged  them  with  the  spirit  of  Winkelreid,  when 
he  swept  the  Austrian  spears  in  his  embrace,  and  *  made  a  gap 
for  liberty.' 

u  We  did  not  fight  there,  however ;  we  were  only  carrying  out 
General  Beauregard's  plan  for  drawing  on  the  enemy  to  Bull 
Run,  where  he  was  ready  for  them.  At  midnight  we  limbered 
up,  the  infantry  and  cavalry  began  to  move,  blue  and  red  signal 
rockets  were  thrown  up,  and  the  little  army  slowly  retired  before 
the  enemy,  reaching  the  southern  bank  of  Bull  Run  at  daylight. 
The  Federals  were  close  upon  our  heels,  and  about  ten  o'clock 
commenced  the  first  fight  there,  the  '  battle  of  the  18th.' 

"  Now  when  I  arrived  at  Bull  Run,  I  was  hungry  enough  to 
eat  a  wolf.  I  lay  down  on  the  wet  ground,  and  thought  of  va 
rious  appetizing  bills  of  fare.  Yisions  of  roast  beef,  coffee,  juleps, 
and  other  Elysian  things  rose  before  my  starving  eyes ;  and  the 
first  guns  of  the  enemy,  crashing  their  round  shot  through  the 
trees  overhead,  scarcely  attracted  my  attention.  I  grew  hungrier 
and  hungrier — things  had  grown  to  a  desperate  pitch,  when — beau 
tiful  even  in  the  eyes  of  memory ! — an  African  appeared  from  our 
wagons  in  the  rear  with  hot  coffee,  and  broiled  bacon,  and  flat-cake, 
yet  hot  from  the  oven  !  At  the  same  moment  a  friend,  who  had 
stolen  off  to  the  wagons,  made  an  imperceptible  gesture,  and  indi 
cating  his  tin  canteen,  gave  me  an  inquiring  look.  In  the  service 
this  pantomime  always  expresses  a  willingness  to  drink  your 
health  and  pass  the  bottle.  I  so  understood  it — and  retiring  from 
the  crowd,  swallowed  a  mouthful  of  the  liquid.  It  was  excellent 
whiskey,  and  my  faintness  from  hunger  and  exhaustion  made 
the  effect  magical.  New  life  and  strength  filled  my  frame — and 
turning  round,  I  was  saluted  by  an  excellent  breakfast  held  out 
to  me  by  the  venerable  old  African  cook  ! 


BLUNDERBUS   ON  PICKET.  407 

"  Ye  gods !  how  that  breakfast  tasted !  The  animal  from 
which  that  ham  was  cut  must  surely  have  been  fattened  on  am 
brosia  ;  and  the  hot,  black  coffee  was  a  tin  cup  full  of  nectar  in 
disguise !  When  I  had  finished  that  meal  I  was  a  man  again. 
I  had  been  in  a  dangerous  mood  before — my  patriotism  had 
cooled,  my  convictions  were  shaken.  I  had  doubted  of  the  Re 
public,  and  thought  the  Confederacy  in  the  wrong,  perhaps.  But 
now  all  was  changed.  From  that  moment  I  was  a  true  South 
erner  again,  and  my  opinions  had  the  genuine  ring  of  the  true 
Southern  metal.  I  went  into  the  battle  with  a  joyous  soul — 
burning  with  love  of  my  native  land,  and  resolved  to  conquer  or 
die! 

"  I  wish  I  could  get  at  that  bill  of  fare  to-night.  Hunger  sours 
the  temper — men  grow  unamiable  under  it.  Hand  me  that  car 
bine — it  is  not  more  than  four  hundred  yards  to  the  picket 
across  yonder,  and  I'll  bet  you  I  can  put  a  bullet  through  that 
bluebird  nodding  over  the  fire.  Against  orders,  do  you  say? 
Well,  so  it  is  ;  but  my  fingers  are  itching  to  get  at  that  carbine. 

"  I'll  trouble  you  to  stick  my  pipe  in  the  hot  ashes  by  you,  my 
friend.  I  am  fixed  here  so  comfortably  with  my  back  against 
this  tree,  that  I  hate  the  idea  of  getting  up.  You  see  I  get  lazy 
when  I  begin  to  smoke,  old  fellow ;  and  I  think  about  so  many 
things,  that  I  don't  like  to  break  my  reflections  by  moving.  I 
have  seen  a  good  deal  in  this  war,  and  I  wish  I  was  a  writer  to 
set  it  down  on  paper.  You  see  if  I  don't,  I  am  certain  to  forget 
everything,  unless  I  live  to  eighty — and  then  when  the  young 
sters,  grandchildren,  and  all  that  (if  I  have  any,  which  I  doubt), 
gather  around  me,  with  mouths  open,  I  will  be  certain  to  make 
myself  out  a  tremendous  warrior,  which  will  be  a  lie ;  for  Blunder- 
bus  is  only  an  old  Captain  of  Cavalry,  good  at  few  things  but 
picketing.  Besides,  all  the  real  colours  of  the  war  would  be  lost, 
things  would  be  twisted  and  ruined ;  if  I  could  set  'em  down  now 
in  a  book,  the  world  would  know  exactly  how  the  truth  was. 
Oh,  that  Blunderbus  was  an  author ! 

"I  have  my  doubts  about  the  figure  we  will  cut  when  the 
black-coats,  who  don't  see  the  war,  commence  writing  about  us 
Just  think  what  a  mess  they  will  make,  old  fellow !     They  will 


408  WEARING    OF    THE    GRAY. 

be  worse  than  Yankee  Cavalry  slashing  right  and  left — much 
ink  will  be  shed,  but  will  the  thing  be  history?  I  doubt  it. 
You  see,  the  books  will  be  too  elegant  and  dignified ;  war  is  a 
rough,  bloody  trade,  but  they  will  gild  it  over  like  a  looking- 
glass  frame.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  they  made  me,  Blunderbus, 
the  old  bear,  a  perfect  'carpet  knight' — all  airs,  and  graces, 
and  attractions.  If  they  do,  they  will  write  a  tremendous  lie,  old 
fellow  !  The  way  to  paint  me  is  rough,  dirty,  bearded,  and  hun 
gry,  and  always  growling  at  the  Yankees.  Especially  hungry— 
the  fact  is,  I  am  really  wolfish  to-night;  and  I  see  that  blue  ras 
cal  over  yonder  gnawing  his  rations  and  raising  a  black  bottle  to 
his  lips !  Wretch ! — the  thing  is  intolerable  ;  give  me  the  car 
bine — I'll  stop  him ! — cursed  order  that  keeps  me  from  stopping 
his  amusement — the  villain !  Who  can  keep  his  temper  under 
trials  like  this,  Sergeant  ?  " 

SERGEANT  OF  PICKETS  advancing. — "  Here,  Captain." 
BLUNDERBUS,  scowling. — "  Are  all  the  men  present?     Call  the 

roll — if  any  are  missing " 

(The  Sergeant  calls  the  roll  and  returns  to  the  fire.) 
SERGEANT. — "  All  present  but  Tim  Tickler,  Captain." 
BLUNDERBUS,  enraged. — "Where  is  Tickler — the    wretched 
Tickler?" 

TICKLER,  hastening  up. — "  Here,  Captain — present,  Captain." 
BLUNDERBUS,  wrathful. — "  So  you  are  absent  at  roll-call !    So 
you  shirk  your  duty  on  picket !     Sergeant,  put  this  man  to 
morrow  in  a  barrel  shirt;    on  the    next  offence,    buck  him! 
What  are  you  standing  there  for,  villain  ?  " 

TICKLER,  producing  a  canteen. — "I  don't  bear  malice,  I  don't, 
Captain.  I  just  went  to  the  house  yonder,  thinking  the  night 
was  cold — for  a  few  minutes  only,  Captain,  being  just  relieved 
from  post — to  get  a  little  bit  to  eat,  and  a  drop  of  drink.  Prime 
applejack,  Captain ;  taste  it,  barrel  shirt  or  no." 

(TICKLER  extends  the  canteen,  which  Blunderbus  takes,  offers  his 
friend,  and  drinks  from.) 

TICKLER,  offering  ham  and  bread. — "  And  here's  a  little  prog, 
Captain." 

BLUNDERBUS,  calling  to  the  Sergeant,  who  retires  with  Tickler. — 


BLUNDERBUS   ON  PICKET.  409 

"  Eemit  Private  Tickler's  punishment,  Sergeant ;  under  the  cir 
cumstances  he  is  excusable." 

STAFF  OFFICER. — "  Ha,  ha ! " 

BLUNDERBUS,  smiling. — "  You  may  laugh,  my  friend ;  but 
applejack  like  that  is  no  laughing  matter.  What  expands  the 
soul  like  meat,  bread,  and  drink  ?  Do  you  think  me  capable  of 
punishing  that  honest  fellow?  Never!  My  feelings  are  too 
amiable.  I  could  hug  the  whole  world  at  the  present  moment, 
even  the  Yanks  yonder.  Poor  fellows!  I  fear  their  fire  is 
dying  down,  and  they  will  freeze ;  suppose  we  call  across  and 
invite  them  to  come  and  warm  by  our  fire  ?  They  are  not  such 
bad  fellows  after  all,  my  dear  friend ;  and  Blunderbus  will  an 
swer  for  their  peaceful  propensities.  Nothing  could  tempt  them 
to  fire  upon  us — they  are  enemies  alone  from  the  force  of  circum 
stances  f  " 

(A  stick  rolls  from  the  fire,  and  the  carbine  lying  near  is  dis 
charged.  The  enemy  start  to  arms,  and  a  shower  of  bullets  whistles 
round,  one  from  a  long-range  /Spencer  rifle  striking  Blunderbus  on 
the  buckle  of  his  sword  belt,  and  knocking  him  literally  heels  over 
head.) 

BLUNDERBUS,  rising  in  a  tremendous  rage. — "Attention!  fire 
on  'em !  Exterminate  'em !  Give  it  to  the  rascals  hot  and 
heavy,  boys !  Go  it !  Fire !  (Bang  !  bang  !  bang !  bang  ! ) 
Pour  it  into  'em  !  Another  round  !  That's  the  thing  !  I  saw 
one  fall !  Hoop !  give  'em  another,  boys !  Hand  me  a  car 
bine  !  " 

STAFF  OFFICER,  from  his  post  behind  the  oak. — "  Ha !  ha !  You 
are  a  philosopher,  my  dear  Blunderbus,  and  a  real  peace  mission 
ary — but  t/ie  'force  of  circumstances  '  alters  cases,  eh  ?  " 

BLUNDERRUS,  sardonically. — "  I  rather  think  it  does." 

(Staff  Officer  mounts,  and  continues  his  rounds,  the  fire .  having 
ceased,  leaving  Blunderbus  swearing  and  rubbing  the  spot  where  he 
struck.) 

STAFF  OFFICER,  moving  on. — "  Good-night !  " 

BLUNDERBUS,  in  the  distance. — "  Good-night !     Curse  'em." 


X. 

ADVENTURES  OF    DARRELL, 


HOW  HE  TOOK  UPTON'S  HILL. 

CAPTAIN  DARRELL  comes  to  see  me  sometimes ;  and  as  we  are  old 
companions  in  arms,  we  have  a  good  many  things  to  talk  about. 

The  Captain  is  a  pleasant  associate  ;  mild  in  his  manners,  and 
apparently  much  too  amiable  to  hurt  a  fly.  He  is  a  terrible  man 
after  the  enemy,  however,  and  exhibits  in  partisan  warfare  the 
faculties  of  a  great  genius.  His  caution,  his  skill,  his  "  combina 
tions,"  are  masterly ; — his  elan  in  a  charge  or  a  skirmish  is 
superb.  Then  only  is  the  worthy  Captain  in  his  native  element, 
and  he  rises  to  the  height  of  the  occasion  without  effort  or  diffi 
culty. 

I  am  going  to  give  some  of  his  experiences  in  the  service — to 
record  some  of  his  scouts  and  performances.  Every  hero  should 
have  his  portrait  first  drawn,  however ; — here  is  the  Captain's  : 

He  is  not  yet  thirty,  and  is  of  medium  height  and  thickness. 
His  frame1  is  strongly  knit,  and  his  arm  muscular.  His  counte 
nance  is  a  pleasant  one ;  his  expression  mild  ;  black  hair,  black 
moustache,  black  eyebrows,  black  eyes.  He  wears  a  dark  sur- 
tout,  cavalry  boots,  and  a  hat  with  a  black  feather.  Around  his 
waist  he  carries  habitually  a  pistol  belt  with  a  revolver  in  it.  In 
the  field  he  adds  a  carbine  or  short  rifle,  and  a  sabre.  His  pistol 
and  sabre  were  once  the  enemy's  property — they  are  the  spoil 
of  his  bow  and  spear. 


ADVENTURES  OF  DARRELL.  411 

I  am  going  to  let  the  Captain  speak  for  himself.  He  is  not 
given  to  talk  about  his  experiences  without  provocation,  and  the 
reader  must  carefully  guard  against  the  injustice  of  supposing 
him  a  trumpeter  of  his  own  performances.  He  is  wholly  igno 
rant  of  the  fact  that  I  am  writing  about  him ;  and  all  that  I  shall 
record  was  drawn  from  him  by  adroit  prompting  and  questions. 
Averse  to  talk  at  first,  and  to  make  himself  the  centre  of  atten 
tion  among  my  visitors,  he  soon  grew  animated,  and  his  ordinary 
somewhat  listless  demeanor  was  replaced  by  ardour  and  enthu 
siasm. 

I  had  asked  how  many  of  the  enemy  he  had  killed  in  his  career. 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  replied  ;  "  I  never  counted  them — a  good 
many." 

"  A  dozen  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes.  I  can  remember  six  officers.  I  never  counted  the 
men." 

"  Where  did  you  kill  your  first  officer?  " 

The  Captain  reflected — musing. 

"  Let  me  see,"  he  said ;  "  yes,  at  Upton's  Hill,  just  by  Upton's 
house." 

"Tell  me  all  about  it?" 

The  Captain  smiled,  and  yawned. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "it  was  in  the  fall  of  '61,  I  think,  or  it  might 
have  been  late  summer." 

And  leaning  back,  clasping  his  hands  around  his  knees,  he 
thus  commenced.  I  give  the  narrative,  as  I  design  giving  others, 
as  nearly  as  possible  in  the  words  of  the  Captain  : 

"  It  was  in  the  fall  of  that  year,  I  think,  when  General  Stuart 
was  below  Fairfax,  and  the  enemy  occupied  Munson's,  Upton's, 
Hall's,  and  Mason's  Hills.  Our  troops  were  at  Falls  Church, 
about  two  miles  from  Upton's  Hill,  and  the  enemy  had  pickets  all 
along  in  front.  I  was  then  scouting  around  on  my  own  respon 
sibility,  and  used  to  go  from  one  place  to  another,  and  get  a  shot 
at  them  whenever  I  could.  The  First  South  Carolina  boys  had 
often  told  me  that  I  would  get  killed  or  wounded,  and  be  taken 
and  hung  as  a  bushwhacker  or  spy ;  but  I  was  not  afraid,  as  I 
had  determined  never  to  be  taken  alive. 


412  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

"  At  the  time  I  speak  of,  we  used  to  send  three  or  four  com 
panies  down  to  Falls  Church  on  picket,  to  stay  some  days,  and 
then  they  would  be  relieved  by  other  companies.  As  I  knew  the 
whole  country — every  road  and  picket-post — the  officers  used  to 
come  to  me  and  get  me  to  go  with  them,  and  show  them  the 
neighbourhood.  General  Longstreet,  whose  brigade  was  then  in 
front,  gave  me  a  letter,  which  was  my  credential,  and  I  posted  all 
the  pickets  at  the  right  places  regularly. 

"  One  day  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  could  take  and  hold 
Upton's  Hill,  if  I  had  the  right  sort  of  men  ;  and  I  offered,  if 
they  would  give  me  a  detail,  to  attempt  it.  Major  Skinner,  of 
the  First  Virginia,  was  officer  of  the  day,  and  he  agreed ;  and 
Captain  Simpson,  of  the  Seventeenth  Virginia,  offered  me  as , 
many  men  as  I  required.  I  thought  I  would  only  take  a  small 
scouting  party  first,  however,  and  I  picked  out  four  men  whom 
I  knew.  My  intention  was  to  creep  up,  make  a  sudden  rush  on 
the  picket  on  Upton's  Hill,  and  capture  it,  and  hold  the  hill 
until  the  enemy  advanced  ;  if  I  was  not  reinforced  I  would  retire 
again.  Well,  I  got  the  men,  all  good  fellows  for  that  sort  of 
work,  and  we  set  out  about  nine  o'clock  at  night  on  our  expedi 
tion.  The  night  was  very  dark,  and  you  could  not  see  the  road 
before  you  ;  but  I  knew  every  foot  of  the  ground,  and  had  no 
difficulty  on  that  score.  We  stopped  at  a  house  on  the  way, 
where  we  found  two  negroes;  but  they  could  give  me  no  infor 
mation,  and  I  pushed  on  in  silence  toward  Upton's  house,  where 
the  Yankee  picket  was  always  stationed. 

"  Just  in  front  of  the  house  there  is  a  tree,  you  may  have 
noticed,  which  we  could  see  easily  from  Taylor's  Hill,  where  our 
picket  was — about  eight  hundred  yards  off — and  the  men  used 
to  fire  at  each  other,  though  I  never  did,  as  it  was  too  far.  Now 
I  knew  that  if  the  enemy  occupied  the  hill  that  night,  their 
picket  would  be  at  this  tree  ;  and  I  accordingly  made  a  circuit 
and  crept  up  toward  it,  to  reconnoitre,  leaving  the  men  a  short 
distance  behind.  I  got  near  the  tree,  which  I  could  see  indis 
tinctly,  but  observed  nothing  in  the  shape  of  a  picket.  To  find 
if  any  was  really  there,  I  picked  up  a  stone  to  throw  at  a  fence ; 
for  I  knew  if  there  were  any  Yankees  there,  that  as  soon  as  they 


ADVENTURES   OF   BARBELL.  413 

heard  it  strike,  they  would  j  ump  up  and  exclaim,  '  Hello ! 
didn't  you  hear  something,  Tom,  or  Dick  !  What  was  that  ?  ' 
They  would  naturally  be  startled,  and  would  in  some  manner 
betray  their  presence. 

"  Well,  I  threw  the  stone,  and  it  struck  the  fence,  bouncing 
off  and  making  a  tremendous  noise.  There  was  no  reply  ;  the 
silence  remained  entirely  unbroken,  and  I  was  satisfied  that  there 
was  no  picket  at  that  particular  spot,  at  least.  I  therefore 
advanced  boldly,  and  reached  the  tree,  making  a  signal  to  the 
men  to  come  up.  The  enemy  had  evidently  been  at  the  spot 
only  a  short  time  before.  There  were  the  remains  of  a  picket 
fire,  and  a  quantity  of  green  corn  lying  about,  taken  from  the 
field  before  the  house,  which  was  about  two  hundred  yards  off, 
and  on  the  tree  was  hanging  a  canteen.  I  took  it  and  put  it 
on,  and  then  cautiously  approached  the  house,  supposing  that 
the  Yankee  pickets  had  gone  in  to  sleep.  Upton  was  then  in 
the  Yankee  Congress,  and  his  house  was  vacant,  and  I  supposed 
the  enemy  used  it  as  a  place  of  shelter. 

"  I  walked  noiselessly  around  the  house,  but  could  see  no  sign 
of  any  one.  I  thought  I  would  try  the  same  game  as  before, 
and  found  a  stone,  which  I  threw  against  the  side  of  the  house. 
Bang  !  it  went,  but  no  one  replied  ;  and  I  was  then  pretty  sure 
that  I  had  everything  in  my  own  hands.  We  knocke'd  at  the 
door,  and  a  sleepy  voice  said  something — probably  a  negro's — 
but  we  could  not  get  in,  though  we  tried  to  prise  the  door 
open. 

"  I  had  thus  got  possession  of  the  hill,  and  the  next  thing  was 
to  hold  it.  I  reflected  for  a  moment,  and  then  sent  two  of  the 
men  back  to  Captain  Simpson,  with  a  message  to  the  effect  that 
I  had  obtained  possession  of  the  place  without  resistance,  and 
that  if  he  would  send  me  fifteen  men,  I  would  stay  theT  3,  engag 
ing  the  enemy  if  they  tried  to  recapture  it.  The  mon  started 
off,  but  lost  their  way  in  the  darkness — they  were  some  of  those 
town  boys  not  used  to  scouting — and  only  one  arrived  at  last ; 
the  other  went  away  round  the  whole  line  of  the  enemy,  but  got 
back  safely  next  day. 

"  I  was  thus  left  with  only  two  men  ;  and  one  of  these  I 


414  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

posted  as  a  vedette  at  the  house,  while  I  returned  with  the  other, 
whose  name  was  Jackson,  to  the  tree  by  the  gate,  where  the 
picket  fire  had  been. 

"  It  was  now  near  day,  and  I  began  to  be  very  anxious  for  the 
appearance  of  the  fifteen  men.  The  messengers  had  had  abun 
dance  of  time  to  go  and  return,  but  no  men  !  I  knew  the  pro 
gramme  of  the  enemy  now  perfectly  well.  They  were  very 
nervous  at  that  time,  and  were  always  afraid  of  being  '  cut  off,' 
as  they  called  it,  and  every  night  would  leave  their  place  on  the 
hill,  retiring  to  the  woods  down  in  the  rear  to  prevent  being 
'  cut  off'  by  scouting  parties  in  the  dark.  When  day  returned, 
they  would  resume  their  position  at  the  picket  tree. 

"  I  knew,  therefore,  that  everything  depended  upon  getting  my 
reinforcement  promptly,  or  it  would  be  too  late.  I  could  not 
hold  the  hill  with  one  man  against  them  all,  and  I  didn't  like  the 
thought  of  slinking  off  as  I  came,  and  making  nothing  by  the 
expedition.  So  I  listened  anxiously  for  sounds  from  the  direction 
of  Falls  Church,  expecting  every  moment  to  hear  the  footsteps  of 
the  men.  I  could  hear  nothing,  however,  and  for  the  reason  I 
have  given — that  my  messenger  arrived  so  late.  Capt.  Simpson, 
as  he  told  me  afterwards,  promptly  ordered  out  the  detail  I  asked 
for ;  but  they  did  not  arrive  in  time. 

"  All  this  time  I  was  listening  attentively  in  the  opposite 
direction,  too.  I  knew  that  if  my  men  did  not  come,  the  enemy 
would  at  the  first  streak  of  daylight,  and  I  did  not  wish  to  be 
caught.  I  determined  to  '  fire  and  fall  back,'  if  I  could  not  fight 
them — and  the  night  was  so  still  that  I  could  hear  the  slightest 
sound  made  by  a  man  long  before  he  approached  me.  My  plan 
had  been  all  arranged,  counting  on  the  arrival  of  the  fifteen  men, 
and  it  was  to  place  them  in  a  cut  of  the  road  near  the  house— and 
as  the  enemy  came  up,  make  the  men  rest  their  guns  on  the 
bank,  and  pour  a  sudden  fire  into  the  flank  of  the  column.  I 
knew  this  would  rout  them  completely — and  everything  was 
arranged  to  carry  out  the  plan — but,  as  I  said,  the  men  did  not 
come.  If  I  held  the  hill  1  would  have  to  do  so  with  two  instead 
of  fifteen. 

"  Everything  turned  out  as  I  expected.     Just  at  the  first  blush 


ADVENTURES  OF  DARRELL.  415 

of  day,  while  everything  was  yet  hazy  and  indistinct,  I  heard  the 
enemy — tramp !  tramp  !  tramp ! — coming  up  the  hill.  The  man 
watching  the  house  was  two  hundred  yards  off ;  and  Jackson  and 
myself  were,  as  I  have  said,  at  the  gate  near  the  tree,  hid  in  the 
tall  corn.  He  was  armed  with  a  Minie  musket,  and  I  had  the 
same  weapon,  with  a  six-shooter  besides. 

"  I  leaned  on  the  fence,  crouching  down  and  listening.  The 
tramp  of  the  Yankees  came  nearer,  and,  in  the  dim  light,  I  could 
see  a  company  of  them,  with  an  officer  at  their  head,  approaching. 
When  they  were  about  ten  yards  off,  and  I  could  make  them  out 
perfectly  distinct,  I  whispered,  '  Now,  Jackson ! '  and,  resting 
my  gun  on  the  fence,  I  took  deliberate  aim  at  the  officer,  and 
fired,  striking  him  in  the  breast.  I  then  dropped  my  gun,  and 
poured  into  them  the  fire  of  all  the  barrels  of  my  revolver,  kill 
ing  a  Sergeant,  and  wounding  three  men. 

"  Although  badly  wounded,  the  Lieutenant  in  command  stood 
gallantly,  and  shouted  to  the  men,  who  had  for  the  most  part 
broken,  and  were  running : 

"  *  Halt  there  !  .  Fire  on  the  scoundrels !  Halt,  I  say !  Fire  on 
them ! ' 

"  Some  of  them  turned,  and  I  heard  the  click  of  the  locks  as 
the  guns  were  cocked. 

" '  Look  out,  Jackson  !  '  I  whispered,  and  I  crouched  down 
behind  the  fence.  At  the  same  moment  a  hot  volley  came  tear 
ing  through  the  tall  corn,  and  cutting  the  blades  over  our  heads. 
I  knew  it  would  not  do  to  let  them  discover  that  there  were  only 
two  men  in  front ;  so,  having  no  more  loads  in  my  pistol,  I  thun 
dered  out  as  though  addressing  a  company  who  had  fired^  with 
out  orders : 

"  '  Steady,  men  !  steady  there,  I  tell  you !  Hold  your  fire ! 
Steady  I  Dress  to  the  right ! ' 

"This  completely  took  them  in,  and  made  them  believe  that 
they  were  ambushed  by  a  large  force.  In  spite  of  all  the  Lieu 
tenant  could  do,  they  broke  and  ran  down  the  hill,  leaving  one 
man — the  Sergeant — dead  behind  them. 

"  The  Lieutenant  was  carried  off  by  some  of  the  men,  and  taken 
to  a  house  not  far  from  the  spot.  I  was  there  soon  afterwards, 


416  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

and  they  told  me  he  was  shot  in  the  left  breast,  just  above  the 
heart,  and  died  of  the  -wound. 

"  That  was  the  first  officer  I  ever  killed,  and  the  whole  of  the 
story. 

"  Knowing  that  the  enemy  would  soon  return  with  a  heavy 
force  to  dislodge  me,  and  that  nothing  was  to  be  gained  by  re 
maining  there  longer  without  reinforcements,  I  called  to  the 
man  at  the  house,  and  took  up  the  line  of  march  back  to  Falls 
Church. 

"  If  they  had  sent  me  the  men,  I  could  have  held  the  hill ;  but, 
as  I  told  you,  the  messengers  I  sent  got  lost." 


II. 

HIS  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  MANASSAS  AND   THE    "  GAMEST 
YANKEE." 

I  have  continued  to  extract  from  Captain  Darrell,  at  various 
times,  accounts  of  his  life  and  adventures.  A  day  or  two  since  , 
we  were  talking  about  the  earlier  scenes  of  the  war,  and  the 
half-forgotten  incidents  which  occurred  before  our  eyes  at  the 
time.  To  my  surprise,  I  found  that  we  had  often  been  near  each 
other' — that  he  had  slept  once  by  the  battery  to  which  I  was  at 
tached  ;  and  that,  doubtless,  I  had  seen,  without  noticing  him, 
however.  The  memories  of  the  Captain  were  not  without  inter 
est;  and  following  my  theory  that  the  traits  and  details  of  this 
period  should  be  collected  now,  I  proceed  to  let  the  Captain 
relate  his  adventures : 

"  I  was  in  Bonham's  command  at  Manassas  before  Beauregard 
came  there,  and  my  regiment  went  along  toward  Centreville  on 
the  very  day  the  Federals  took  possession  of  Alexandria.  We 
stayed  at  Centreville  some  time,  and  then  advanced  to  Fairfax. 
Here  I  commenced  scouting  around,  and  kept  at  it  until  the 
enemy  made  their  advance  on  the  16th  of  July.  They  came  in 
heavy  columns  on  the  Flint  Hill  road,  and  Bonham  fell  back 
quietly  with  only  a  few  shots  from  his  artillery.  The  men  were 


ADVENTURES  OF  PARRELL.  417 

all  in  the  breastworks,  hot  for  a  fight,  which  they  all  expected ; 
but  they  were  marched  out  and  back  on  the  road  to  Centreville. 

"  I  was  out  on  the  road  to  the  left  of  Germantown  with  a 
companion  when  their  column  appeared,  and  we  were  cut  off. 
AVe  struck  into  the  woods,  made  a  circuit,  and  came  out  again 
on  a  high  hill  above  Germantown,  on  the  turnpike,  from  which 
we  could  see  them  rushing  into  Fairfax.  They  seemed  to  over 
flow  it  in  a  minute,  and  we  could  hear  their  yells  as  they  en 
tered — thinking  the  whole  Rebel  army  had  fled  before  them. 
They  were  soon  at  Germantown,  and  burned  most  of  the  houses, 
hurrying  on  in  pursuit  of  Bonham  toward  Centreville.  I 
thought  it  best  to  get  away  from  there  as  soon  as  possible,  so  I 
went  on  through  the  woods,  and  arrived  at  Centreville  about  the 
time  you  all  ran  your  guns  up  on  the  hill  there,  to  cover  the 
retreat.  There  I  saw  General  Bonham,  whom  I  knew  very  well, 
and  I  told  him  I  believed  I  would  go  out  and  scout  around,  to 
try  and  find  what  the  enemy  were  about.  He  said  he  would  be 
glad  if  I  would  do  so,  and  I  started  off  toward  the  Frying  Pan 
road,  and  heard  them  moving  in  every  direction.  I  tramped 
toound  for  a  long  time,  to  try  and  make  something  out ;  but 
finding  I  could  not,  I  returned  to  Centreville.  The  army  was 
gone!  and  the  enemy  were  pressing  in  just  as  I  arrived.  I 
thought  I  was  certainly  gone  ;  but  I  avoided  them  in  the  dark, 
and  pushed  on  toward  Bull  Run. 

"I  reached  the  high  land  just  above  the  stream  in  an  hour  or 
two,  and  remember  meeting  Captain,  now  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Langhorne,  whose  company  was  on  the  side  of  the  road,  a  part 
of  the  rear-guard.  I  entered  into  conversation  with  him,  and 
he  asked  me  to  what  command  I  was  attached.  I  told  him  I 
was  an  independent,  scouting  around  on  my  own  responsibility ; 
and  he  invited  me  to  stay  with  him.  So,  after  eating  some  of 
his  supper,  I  laid  down  on  his  blankets  and  went  to  sleep. 

'•  I  woke  early,  and  went  on  toward  Bull  Run.  As  I  was 
going  along,  I  saw  a  man  on  horseback  ride  across  the  field,  and 
remember  looking  at  him  and  taking  him  for  one  of  our  own 
men.  I  was  stooping  and  picking  blackberries  at  the  time,  and 
took  no  particular  notice  of  him,  or  I  might  have  killed  him, 

27 


418  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

and  got  his  horse  and  accoutrements,  which  I  needed  very  much 
at  the  time.  I  allowed  him  to  pass  me  ;  and  when  he  got  near 
the  small  house  on  the  hill,  he  called  out  to  three  or  four  soldiers 
posted  there : 

"  '  Where  is  General  McDowell  ?  ' 

"  i  General  who  f '  was  the  reply. 

"  *  General  McDowell ! '  he  repeated.  *  Make  haste  !  I  am 
looking  for  him ! ' 

"  '  Halt !  halt ! '  came  from  the  soldiers,  who  caught  up  and 
cocked  their  guns.  The  Yankee  saw  his  mistake  too  late.  He 
wheeled  his  horse  round,  and  dug  the  spurs  into  him,  but  at 
that  minute  our  men  fired  on  him,  and  he  fell  to  the  ground, 
dead. 

"  He  proved  to  be  General  McDowell's  quartermaster — I  heard 
his  name,  but  forget  it  now.  He  had  seven  hundred  and  sixty- 
odd  dollars  on  his  person,  I  was  told. 

"  After  that  I  went  on  toward  Blackburn's  Ford,  and  found 
our  men  drawn  up  there  in  line  of  ..battle  on  the  south  bank. 
Soon  after  I  got  over  General  Longs treet  rode  down,  smoking  a 
cigar,  and  I  heard  the  enemy  coming.  & 

"  '  Who  will  volunteer  to  go  across  and  observe  their  move 
ments  ? '  asked  Longstreet. 

"  'I  will,  General,'  said  Captain  Marye,  of  Alexandria. 

"  '  Go  on,  then,  Captain,'  said  Longstreet.  '  Hurrah  for  the 
Alexandria  Guards ! ' 

"  '  The  Alexandria  Rifles,  General,'  said  Captain  Marye,  turn 
ing  round,  and  bowing. 

"  '  Hurrah  for  the  Rifles,  then  ! '  said  Longstreet ;  and  Marye 
advanced  across  the  Run  with  his  company. 

"  It  was  soon  after  this,  I  think,  that  the  artillery  fight  com 
menced  between  our  batteries  and  those  of  the  Federals.  Ours 
were  in  the  plain  there,  on  the  slope  of  a  little  rising  ground,  and 
the  enemy's  were  near  the  house,  on  the  other  side,  with  all  the 
position  on  us.  Our  batteries  were  fought  beautifully,  and  I  re 
member  how  excited  we  all  were,  watching  the  shells  passing  over 
us — we  could  see  them.  When  some  of  our  horses  were  killed 
we  all  felt  deeply  for  the  artillery ;  but  it  was  pushed  forward, 


ADVENTURES  OF  DARRELL.  419 

and  got  out  of  range  for  the  moment.  The  Yankees  soon  fell 
back,  and  we  stayed  there,  waiting  for  them  to  renew  the  attack. 
The  men  were  terribly  excited,  and  fired  at  everything  over  the 
Run,  whether  it  was  an  enemy  or  not.  Some  fresh  regiments 
came  down,  and  they  were  sitting  with  their  guns  up,  expecting 
every  minute  to  begin,  and  eager  for  the  enemy  to  approach. 
They  would  fire  in  the  air,  or  at  anything  they  saw ;  and  some 
times  whole  companies  would  rise  up,  and  blaze  away  right  into 
the  opposite  bank. 

"  This  made  me  mad.  I  was  as  sick  as  I  could  be,  with  the 
measles  breaking  out  all  over  me,  and  was  going  about  with  my 
face  red  and  swollen,  my  shirt-bosom  open,  and  my  head  feeling 
curiously.  The  men  noticed  me  as  I  was  rambling  around,  and 
seemed  anxious  to  know  who  I  was.  I  mixed  with  them,  but 
said  nothing  until  they  began  to  throw  away  their  ammunition, 
firing  into  the  wood  ;  when  I  halloed  at  them,  and  told  them  to 
stop  that. 

"  '  There  are  no  Yankees  there,'  I  shouted  to  them ;  *  don't  be 
wasting  your  cartridges  in  that  way,  men  ! ' 

"  But  they  took  no  notice  of  me,  except  one  or  two,  who  asked 
me  where  I  was  from.  1  told  them  I  was  from  South  Carolina, 
and  then  they  went  on  firing.  The  thing  looked  so  ridiculous 
to  me  that  I  began  to  laugh,  and  just  at  that  moment  a  whole 
company  blazed  away  into  the  pines  across  the  run.  I  jumped 
up,  clapped  my  hands,  and  shouted  enthusiastically  : 

"  '  That  was  a  glorious  volley,  men  ! — perfectly  glorious  !  You 
are  the  boys !  and  that  fire  would  have  killed  at  least  three  thou 
sand  Yankees — if  there  were  any  within  three  or  four  miles  of 
you  ! ' 

"  They  laughed  at  this,  and  just  as  they  stopped  a  shell  came 
from  the  enemy  and  cut  off  the  top  of  a  large  tree  under  which 
I  was  standing.  It  crashed  down,  and  a  big  limb  struck  me  on 
the  side  of  the  head  and  knocked  me  over.  Another  piece,  I 
heard,  broke  the  back  of  a  man  in  one  of  the  companies.  When 
they  saw  me  knocked  down  they  all  laughed  worse  than  ever, 
and  shouted  out : 

" '  Look  out,  South  Carolina !     Take  care  of  yourself  I ' 


420  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

u  I  thought  I  would  move  on.  After  that  I  got  so  sick  that 
I  could  not  keep  up,  so  I  went  along  toward  Mitchell's  Ford 
above,  and  fell  in  with  some  friends  of  General  Bonham's  staff. 
His  headquarters  were  just  in  rear  of  our  batteries  there,  and 
they  pitched  me  a  small  tent — the  only  one  put  up — and  I  lay 
down,  not  minding  the  heavy  cannonading,  I  was  so  sick.  I  stayed 
there  until  the  21st,  when  I  could  stand  it  no  longer,  and  deter 
mined  to  get  up  and  strike  for  the  battle-field  on  our  left.  I  went 
in  that  direction  and  fell  in  with  a  young  cousin  of  mine,  Edward 
Farley,  who  had  come  down  from  the  University  of  Virginia  Jo 
see  the  fun.  We  went  along  together,  and  I  got  on  the  field 
just  when  Evans,  and  Bee,  and  Bartow  were  fighting  to  the  left 
of  the  Stone  bridge.  I  was  so  weak  that  I  could  hardly  stand 
up ;  and  my  cousin  advised  me  to  take  a  drink  of  whiskey,  as  he 
had  some  along  with  him.  I  did  not  wish  to  do  so  at  first,  but 
he  persuaded  me  that  it  would  be  best  for  me  ;  and  I  poured  out 
a  tin  cup  half  full  of  the  whiskey  and  swallowed  it.  I  had  never 
taken  a  drink  before  in  my  life — and  I  have  never  taken  one 
since.  I  was  so  weak  and  exhausted,  and  my  stomach  was  so 
empty,  that  it  made  me  as  tight  as  anything !  I  went  charging 
around,  half  out  of  my  senses,  and  tried  to  make  the  men  stand 
to  the  work.  They  were  falling  back,  however,  when  all  at  once 
Beauregard  came  galloping  up,  and  rode  up  and  down  the  line, 
making  the  men  a  speech,  and  urging  them  not  to  give  up  their 
firesides  and  altars  to  the  foe.  They  answered  with  shouts  all 
along  the  line,  and  soon  afterwards  charged,  and  drove  the  ene 
my  back  toward  Sudley.  After  that  the  battle  was  a  rout.  Our 
cavalry  came  down  at  a  gallop,  and  the  enemy  took  to  flight. 

"  I  staggered  on  after  them,  and  saw  them  running.  I  ran  on 
too,  firing  at  them,  until  I  got  nearly  to  Centreville.  I  was  then 
obliged  to  stop  and  sit  down,  with  my  back  to  a  tree,  on  the 
roadside,  as  I  was  too  sick  and  weak  to  proceed.  The  effect  of 
the  liquor  had  worn  off,  and  I  remained  there  half  dozing,  until 
I  heard  cavalry  coming  along.  It  was  Captain  Powell's  cavalry, 
from  Alexandria — one  of  the  first  companies  organized — and 
as  they  swept  by  me  at  a  gallop,  I  shouted  : 

"  '  Go  it,  boys  !     Give  it  to  'em.' 


ADVENTURES   OF   DARRELL.  421 

"  They  passed  on,  and  as  soon  as  I  was  strong  enough.  I  got 
up.  and  went  towards  a  house  near  by,  to  get  something  to  eat. 
They  did  not  want  to  let  me  in,  but  I  had  my  pistol,  and  told 
them  that  I  was  sick,  and  could  go  no  further,  and  I  intended  to 
come  in  whether  or  no.  I  accordingly  entered,  and  among  a 
crowd  there  found  Edward,  who  had  been  separated  from  me  in 
the  battle,  and  followed  on  as  I  had. 

"  I  lay  down  on  a  sofa,  and  sent  out  for  something  to  eat, 
which  I  soon  got.  I  then  went  to  sleep,  and  when  I  woke  next 
morning  was  a  great  deal  better.  I  left  the  house,  took  the  road 
to  Fairfax,  and  never  stopped  until  I  got  to  the  Chain  Bridge,  on 
the  Potomac,  where  I  proposed  to  Captain  Powell  to  cross  and 
capture  the  pickets  on  the  other  side.  That's  all  I  saw  of  the 
battle  of  Manassas." 

I  shall  conclude  my  article  with  one  other  adventure  of 
the  worthy  Captain.  We  had  been  discussing  the  highly  inte 
resting  subject  of  saddles,  the  merits  of  the  "  McClellan,"  the 
desirability  of  a  good  new  one  of  that  pattern,  and  the  cri 
minal  negligence  of  those  who  had  passed  by  whole  piles  of 
them  and  never  secured  one,  when  the  Captain  said  he  had  a 
very  fine  one  which  had  "  belonged  to  the  gamest  Yankee  he 
ever  saw."  There  was  something  in  that  phrase  which  I  have 
quoted,  strongly  suggestive  of  some  belle  aventure,  and  I  there 
fore  made  an  assault  upon  the  Captain  to  compel  him  to  relate 
the  incident. 

He  did  so,  as  usual,  after  repeated  urgings ;  and  here 
is  the  narrative  as  nearly  as  possible  in  the  words  of  the 
narrator : 

11 1  got  the  saddle  when  we  were  advancing  after  the  battle  of 
Cedar  Bun,  last  August.  I  went  with  a  part  of  the  command 
to  which  I  was  attached,  down  the  road  which  leads  from  Cul- 
peper  to  Kelley's  Ford,  on  the  Bappahannock.  Just  before  you 
get  to  the  river  there  are  two  gates,  within  a  short  distance  of 
each  other,  which  you  have  to  pass  through.  There  is  a  fence  on 
the  right  side  of  the  road,  and  another  gate  in  that,  opening  into 
a  field.  On  the  left  there  is  no  fence — open  field  and  a  high  hill. 

"  Well,  I  took  two  men  and  went  scouting  down  that  way, 


422  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

and  came  to  the  first  gate.  I  opened  it,  and  rode  through,  but 
before  the  men  could  follow  it  shut  to.  All  at  once  I  saw  in 
front  of  me  three  Yankees  on  foot — two  privates  and  a  sergeant, 
as  I  soon  found.  The  sergeant  was  carrying  a  bucket. 

"  As  soon  as  I  saw  them  I  called  to  them  to  surrender. 

"  '  Throw  down  your  arms! '  I  called  out,  pointing  rny  pistol 
at  them,  '  or  you  are  dead  men  ! ' 

"  The  privates  threw  down  their  muskets,  but  the  sergeant 
drew  a  pistol  and  was  about  to  fire  on  me,  when  I  covered  him 
with  my  pistol,  and  said  : 

"  '  Now,  you  just  fire,  you  scoundrel,  and  I'll  kill  you ! ' 

"  He  hesitated  for  a  moment,  but  finally  lowered  his  pistol, 
and  said  he  would  not  have  surrendered  to  one  man  if  I  had  pot 
taken  him  at  a  disadvantage.  I  turned  over  the  prisoners,  and 
went  on.  As  I  moved  on,  Mosby  and  Hardeman  Stuart  came 
by,  and  pushed  on  to  the  high  hill  on  the  left,  to  reconnoitre.  I 
had  not  gone  far  before  I  saw  three  Yankee  cavalry  in  the  field 
to  the  right,  riding  straight  down  towards  us,  evidently  intending 
to  pass  through  the  gate  in  the  fence.  I  had  my  two  men  with 
me,  and  as  I  wanted  to  overpower  the  Yankees,  I  beckoned  to 
Mosby  and  Hardeman,  who  were  in  sight,  and  they  came  riding 
down.  We  then  opened  the  gate,  and  all  five  of  us  pushed 
towards  the  three  Yankees,  who,  instead  of  running,  as  I  ex 
pected,  drew  up  in  line  to  receive  our  charge — the  rascals!  We 
galloped  at  them,  and  they  held  their  fire  until  we  got  within 
five  yards  of  them,  when  bang!  bang!  bang!  went  their  revolv 
ers  at  us.  We  replied,  and  in  a  minute  were  right  in  the  middle 
of  them  with  the  sabre,  ordering  them  to  surrender. 

"  They  obeyed,  and  I  thought  the  fight  was  over,  when  sud 
denly  one  of  the  scoundrels  put  his  pistol  right  in  my  face  and 
fired — so  close  that  the  powder  burned  my  ear  ;  here  is  the  mark 
still.  As  he  fired  he  dashed  off,  and  two  of  our  men  pushed  to 
cut  him  off  from  the  gate.  I  was  mad  enough,  as  you  may 
understand  ;  and  I  rode  at  him,  full  speed.  When  he  "saw  him 
self  thus  surrounded,  he  lowered  his  sabre  which  he  had  drawn, 
and  called  out  that  he  would  surrender.  I  rode  up  to  him,  and 
shook  my  fist  at  him,  gritting  my  teeth. 


ADVENTURES  OF  DARRELL.  423 

"  *  You  scoundrel ! '  I  exclaimed.  '  You  black-hearted  vil 
lain  !  to  fire  on  me  after  surrendering!  I  am  almost  tempted  to 
blow  your  brains  out  with  my  pistol ! ' 

"  He  made  no  reply  ;  and  telling  the  men  to  take  charge  of 
him  I  turned  to  ride  back.  I  had  not  gone  ten  steps  before  I 
heard  a  sudden  cry  behind  me,  and  looking  hastily  round,  I  saw 
one  of  the  men  falling  from  the  saddle,  with  one  arm  thrown  up, 
as  if  to  ward  off  a  blow.  He  had  tried  to  do  so,  but  failed. 
The  infernal  scoundrel  of  a  Yankee  had,  after  surrender,  sud 
denly  cut  the  man  over  the  head  with  his  sabre,  and  running 
against  the  other,  nearly  knocked  him  from  his  horse ! 

"  Instead  of  running,  the  rascal  then  turned  his  attention  to 
me,  and  made  a  wipe  at  me  as  his  horse  darted  by,  which  just 
grazed  my  head.  He  might  perhaps  have  got  off  if  he  had 
tried,  then  ;  but  he  came  at  me  again,  riding  right  down  with  his 
sabre  ready. 

"  I  saw  my  chance,  then,  and  just  as  he  was  driving  at  me,  I 
levelled  my  pistol  and  fired.  The  ball  struck  him  just  under 
the  left  ear,  and  passed  entirely  through  his  head. 

"  He  fell  from  his  saddle,  and  I  caught  his  horse,  which  was 
a  very  fine  one.  That  was  the  gamest  Yankee  I  ever  fought 
with,  and  his  saddle  was  a  first-rate  one — a  bran  new  '  McClel- 
lan ; '  and  if  you  want  one  I  will  give  it  to  you,  as  I  have  as 
many  as  I  want." 

So  terminated  the  Captain's  story  of  the  "  gamest  Yankee." 
It  may  interest  those  who  like  the  clash  of  sabres  and  the  crack 
of  fire-arms — on  paper. 


III. 

HOW  HE  WAS  CAPTURED. 

Among  the  most  interesting  narratives  which  I  extracted,  by 
adroit  urging,  from  my  friend  Captain  Darrell,  was  that  of  the 
hard  fight  which  he  had  at  Langly,  and  his  capture.  Let  me 
here  again,  in  justice  to  the  Captain,  guard  the  reader  from  s'up- 


424  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

posing  that  these  relations  were  volunteered  by  the  hero  of  them. 
Such  was  by  no  means  the  case.  It  was  only  after  skilful  ma- 
noauvring  and  repeated  urging  that  the  worthy  was  induced — 
with  many  preliminary  protests,  accompanied  by  a  determined 
twisting  of  his  mustache — to  enter  on  the  subject  of  his  adven 
tures. 

This  explanation  is  due  to  him.  Nothing  is  more  perilous 
than  what  is  called  egotism.  When  a  man  sits  down  to  narrate 
his  own  performances,  or  when  he  relates  them  orally  to  a 
circle  of  listeners,  the  instinctive  feeling  of  the  reader  or  the  lis 
tener  is  prone  to  be  one  of  doubt.  Human  nature  is  so  curiously 
constituted  that  whatever  even  appears  egotistical  is  offensive ; 
and  the  revenge  which  men  take  for  being  silenced  or  eclipsefr, 
is  to  question  the  truth  of  what  the  egotist  utters.  So  sure  is 
this  proclivity  to  underrate  what  throws  us  into  the  shadow,  that 
Bulwer,  in  one  of  those  books  in  which  he  shows  so  much  keen 
observation  of  the  world,  makes  the  company  rejoice  when  a 
profound  talker  has  left  the  room,  and  think  far  more  highly  of 
Mr.  Pelharn,  the  exquisite,  who  only  said,  "  Good  !  "  and  "  Very 
true  !  "  as  others  talked.  If  Captain  Paul  Jones  talked  for  two 
hours  steadily,  all  about  his  adventures,  he  would  have  many 
persons  to  declare  him  a  bore,  and  doubt  whether  he  ever  fought 
the  Serapis.  If  Marion  spoke  of  swamp-encounters  all  through 
an  evening,  there  would  be  many  to  question  whether  he  ever 
mounted  steed.  Such  is  human  nature. 

The  reader  will  please  observe,  therefore,  that  Captain  Darrell 
did  not  volunteer  these  statements.  Instead  of  being  an  egotist, 
and  an  incessant  talker,  he  is  really  the  most  retiring  and  silent 
of  men.  You  may  be  with  him  for  a  month,  and  during  the 
whole  of  that  time  he  will  not  once  refer  to  any  event  of  his 
experience.  He  will  talk  with  you  quietly,  upon  this  or  that 
subject,  but  never  about  his  own  exploits.  I  cannot  too  often 
repeat,  in  justice  to  the  Captain,  that  the  narratives  here  given 
were  extracted  from  him  by  the  process  of  direct  interrogation. 
Having  the  present  highly  praiseworthy  end  in  view — that  of 
putting  upon  record  some  singular  chapters  of  the  war — I  attacked 
him,  and  drew  forth  his  recollections,  as  water  is  drawn  from  a 


ADVENTURES  OF  DARRELL.  425 

well,  by  working  at  the  windlass.  The  adventures  came  out  in 
reply  to  my  questions,  and  solely  to  gratify  an  evident  curiosity 
to  hear  them.  If  I  give  them  to  the  reader,  he  will  act  with 
great  ingratitude  in  attributing  either  egotism  or  gasconade  to 
the  worthy  Captain. 

With  these  few  words  of  caution  to  the  reader,  I  proceed  to 
let  the  Captain  tell  how  he  was  captured. 

"  It  is  a  long  story,"  he  said,  "  but  you  have  managed  to  set 
me  talking,  and  I  suppose  I  may  as  well  go  on.  My  capture  was 
an  accident — it  ought  never  to  have  occurred.  The  way  of  it 
was  this : 

"  It  took  place  about  November,  1861 ;  and  at  that  time  I  was 
scouting  around,  trying  to  find  some  opening  to  '  go  in.'  When 
one  place  got  too  hot  for  me,  I  went  to  another.  I  would  work 
around  for  some  time,  up  by  Dranesville;  then  near  Vienna 
and  Falls  Church  ;  and  then  by  Annandale,  down  to  Occoquon. 
The  South  Carolina  boys — you  know  I  came  on  with  them — 
used  to  tell  me  that  I  would  certainly  get  caught;  that  I  was 
too  rash  and  reckless ;  and  they  would  not  go  with  me  any 
more.  But  that  was  unjust.  That  has  been  said  of  me  a 
hundred  times ;  but  there  is.no  man  more  cautious  than  I  am. 

"  I  had  a  scout  on  hand,  and  I  got  a  man  to  go  with  me,  whose 
name  was  Carper.  Also  Frank  Decaradeux,  First  Lieutenant  of 
Company  Gr,  7th  South  Carolina — a  noble  fellow,  who  was  killed 
at  Charleston  in  the  fight  lately.  At  Dranesville  we  got  another 
named  Coleman,  who  is  dead,  too,  I  believe,  poor  fellow — and  set 
out  on  the  scout. 

"  The  enemy  were  then  at  Langly,  with  their  pickets  in  front, 
and  we  heard  that  they  were  going  to  make  an  expedition  to 
ward  Dranesville,  where  we  had  a  picket  post.  Our  intention 
was  to  waylay  the  party,  whatever  its  strength,  and  attack  it 
from  the  woods  on  the  side  of  the  road;  then,  durino-  the  confu- 

'  o 

sion,  to  make  our  escape  in  the  thicket,  if  necessary.  I  was  at 
that  time  in  first-rate  spirits — hot  for  a  fight — and  I  knew  I  could 
depend  upon  my  companions,  especially  Frank  Decaradeux.  So 
we  set  out  toward  Langly,  and  when  within  a  .mile  or  so  of  their 
pickets,  took  post  in  the  woods  where  the  road  suddenly  descend- 


426  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

ed  between  high  banks,  and  gave  us  an  excellent  opportunity  to 
ambush  them  as  they  approached. 

"  Well,  we  waited  there  two  or  three  hours,  and  there  was  no 
sign  of  an  enemy.  Then  as  night  had  come  we  concluded  to 
give  it  up  for  that  day,  and  go  across  to  a  house  which  I  knew 
of,  and  get  supper  and  lodging.  We  went  there  accordingly,  and 
had  a  good  supper,  telling  the  old  man  to  have  us  a  hot  cup  of 
coffee  at  daylight,  when  we  were  going  to  try  again.  Soon  after 
day  we  left  him  in  high  spirits,  and  made  for  the  main  road 
again.  We  had  just  come  near,  in  the  field,  when  I  saw  the  head 
of  a  column  of  Federal  Cavalry,  coming  from  the  direction  of 
Dranesville.  They  had  passed  us  in  the  night !  At  Dranesville 
they  had  caught  our  pickets — Whitton  and  Hildebrand — a*nd 
about  thirteen  citizens,  whom  they  were  now  carrying  back  to 
Langly. 

"  My  first  thought  was  to  get  to  the  big  pines  where  we  had  been 
on  the  evening  before ;  but  this  was  impossible.  The  enemy  were 
so  close  upon  us  that  if  we,  started  to  run  they  would  certainty 
see  us — and  the  pines  were  more  than  half  a  mile  off.  The  only 
thing  I  thought  of  was  to  take  advantage  of  a  rise  in  the  ground, 
cross  the  road,  and  get  in  some  pine  bushes — short  second  growth 
about  as"  high  as  a  man — where  I  determined  to  open  fire  upon 
them.  We  accordingly  ran  across  as  hard  as  we  could,  and  pass 
ing  by  a  small  house,  a  Mrs.  Follen's,  got  in  the  bushes.  The 
enemy  were  coming  on  quickly  and  we  held  a  council  of  war. 

"  '  I'll  tell  you  what,  boys,  it  won't  do  for  us  to  let  them  get  by 
without  doing  them  some  damage.  They  have  been  up  there 
robbing  and  plundering,  and  I  for  one  intend  to  fire  into  them, 
and  die  if  necessary.  But  we  can  get  off.  They  will  think  we 
are  a  heavy  force  sent  to  ambush  them  ;  and  in  the  confusion  we 
can  get  into  the  big  pines  below,  where  they  never  can  catch  us.' 

"  Decaradeux  said  he  would  stand  by  me,  and  the  others  did 
too,  at  last — but  they  looked  very  pale.  We  looked  carefully  to 
our  arms  and  saw  that  all  was  right.  We  had  guns,  or  carbines, 
except  Decaradeux,  who  carried  a  short  revolving  rifle,  which  had 
got  clogged  up  with  the  spermaceti  on  the  cartridges.  He  worked 
at  it,  and  got  it  in  order,  however,  and  said  he  was  ready. 


ADVENTURES  OF  DARRELL.  427 

"  The  cavalry  had  now  got  within  twenty  yards  of  us,  and  at 
the  head  of  the  column  rode  General  Bayard,  then  Colonel,  with 
some  staff  officers :  the  prisoners  were  in  the  rear.  As  they 
came  within  ten  or  fifteen  yards  I  arose  and  said,  '  Now,  boys ! ' 
and  we  gave  them  a  volley  which  threw  them  into  tremendous 
confusion.  Whitton  told  me  afterwards  that  the  men  trembled 
in  their  very  boots,  and  turned  their  horses  to  run — thinking 
they  were  ambushed  by  the  rebel  army.  Bayard  shouted, 
•  Steady  !  steady,  men ! '  and  pushed  forward — he  was  a  brave 
fellow — and  I  was  ready  for  him.  As  he  got  within  five  yards 
of  me  I  fired  and  tore  his  coat  skirt  all  to  pieces — killing  his 
horse,  which  fell  upon  him.  As  he  fell,  some  of  the  officers 
whose  horses  had  run  on  by,  to  the  front,  came  galloping  back; 
and  seeing  one  in  uniform  with  straps,  I  fired  and  shot  him 
through  the  body,  killing  him. 

"  We  might  have  got  off  in  the  confusion  had  it  not  been  for 
Mrs.  Follen,  who  cried,  *  Oh  !  they  are  only  four  men  ! '  Poor 
thing,  I  suppose  she  was  frightened.  The  enemy,  as  soon  as  they 
heard  this,  rallied,  and  threw  dismounted  men  into  the  bushes 
after  us ;  it  seemed  to  me  that  they  were  down  and  in  the  pines 
in  one  minute.  Frank  Decaradeux  had  been  shot  through  the 
right  hand,  and  Coleman  through  the  side.  No  time  was  to  be 
lost,  and  we  made  a  break  for  the  big  pines,  where  I  expected  to 
be  able  to  escape.  "We  could  not  reach  them — the  flankers 
coming  in  and  cutting  us  off — and  soon  found  that  we  were 
surrounded.  I  got  separated  from  the  rest,  and  was  running 
around  trying  to  find  an  opening  to  escape,  but  they  were  all 
around  me.  I  could  hear  their  howls  as  they  closed  in. 

;'  '  Here's  the  First  Pennsylvania!  Bully  for  us,  boys!  We 
are  the  boys  !  We'll  give  'em  h — 1 ! ' 

u  It  was  like  a  pack  of  wolves.  I  had  fired  all  my  loads,  and 
stopped  under  a  sapling  to  reload.  I  remember  my  feelings  at 
that  moment  perfectly.  I  never  was  so  miserable  in  all  my  life 
before.  I  had  that  feeling  of  desperation  which  you  can  imagine 
a  dog  has  when  he  is  run  into  a  corner,  and  glares  up  and  snaps 
at  you.  My  hand  did  not  tremble  a  particle,  however,  as  I  was 
loading  my  revolver.  I  had  a  small  flask,  and  I  put  in  the 


428  WEARING    OF   THE    GRAY. 

proper  amount  of  powder  and  rammed  the  balls  home,  and  then 
got  up  from  the  ground.  Half-a-dozen  of  the  enemy  were 
closing  right  around  me,  and  as  soon  as  they  saw  me  they  fired, 
and  I  returned  it.  I  could  not  find  an  opening  to  get  out — I 
was  surrounded  upon  every  side,  and  I  didn't  know  what  to  do. 
Every  moment  they  were  popping  at  me,  only  a  few  yards  off, 
as  I  doubled  about,  and  I  had  eight  balls  in  my  clothes  and  the 
cape  of  my  coat,  and  one  in  my  cap.  At  last  I  got  into  an  open 
space,  towards  the  road,  and  saw  a  gap  in  the  fence  which  one 
cavalryman  was  watching. 

"  '  Now  is  my  chance,'  I  thought. 

"  And  I  made  a  rush  straight  at  him.  I  had  kept  one  load  in 
my  pistol,  and  if  I  killed  him,  as  I  thought  I  could  easily,  I  could 
get  his  horse  and  then  good-by  to  them !  As  I  ran  towards  him 
he  raised  his  carbine  and  fired  at  me,  but  I  did  not  mind  that. 
I  was  up  to  him  in  a  minute,  and  put  my  pistol  straight  at  his 
breast  and  shot  him  out  of  the  saddle.  He  fell,  and  I  was  just 
about  to  catch  the  rein,  when — I  scarcely  remember,  but  Hilde- 
brarid  told  me,  the  cavalrymen  rode  me  down,  one  of  the  men 
striking  me  across  the  head  with  the  barrel  of  his  carbine.  But 
I  think  the  hoof  of  the  horse  must  have  struck  me  as  he  jumped 
over  me — my  left  side  was  all  bruised  and  bloody. 

"When  I  came  to  my  senses  I  was  lying  on  my  face,  and  the 
first  words  I  heard  were,  I  remember  perfectly : 

"  '  Dead  as  hell,  by  -    - ! ' 

"  I  raised  my  head  a  little,  and  finding  I  was  not  dead,  they 
collared  me,  and  made  me  stand  up,  hustling  me  about  from  side 
to  side,  and  jabbering  in  every  language.  I  got  tired  of  being 
held  in  this  way,  and  clutched  a  carbine  from  one  of  them, 
intending  to  club  it,  and  hit  right  and  left,  but  they  got  it  away 
from  me.  I  remember  there  was  one  fellow  with  a  cocked  pis 
tol  who  seemed  anxious  to  get  at  me,  and  the  officers  around 
were  laughing,  and  saying,  '  Let  the  Italian  get  at  him !  he'll 
finish  him  ! ' 

"  '  Put  me  out  in  that  field  with  a  pistol,'  I  said,  '  and  your 
Italian  or  any  can  try  me ! ' 

"  They  only  laughed  at  this,  and  hustled  me  about,  as  they 


ADVENTUEES   OF   DARRELL.  429 

did  poor  Frank  Decaradeux  and  Coleman,  whom  they  had 
caught.  Carper  got  off.  Decaradeux  had  lost  his  hat,  like  my 
self,  and  had  an  oilcloth  wrapped  over  his  head,  which  made  his 
pale  cheeks  and  black  eyes  like  a  girl's.  They  laughed  at  this 
resemblance,  and  said,  pointing  at  me : 

"  *  Who  is  that  fellow  there,  with  his  hand  in  the  breast  of  his 
coat?  He  looks  like  he  didn't  care  what  the  price  of  tobacco 
was! ' 

"  I  had  gotten  dignified,  however,  and  made  no  answer ;  and 
soon  after  an  officer  rode  up,  and  said : 

"  '  Captain  Darrell,  I  am  sorry  to  see  you  in  this  predicament. 
Captain  McKewn  of  General  McCall's  staff.  I  remember  having 
the  pleasure  of  your  acquaintance  at  the  University  of  Virginia.' 

"  I  bowed,  and  he  asked  me  what  had  become  of  my  cap. 
I  told  him  I  had  unfortunately  lost  it,  but  I  observed  one  of 
the  men  riding  around  with  it.  He  went  off  and  got  me  a  fine 
new  one,  and  soon  afterwards  the  fellow  who  wore  my  cap — it 
was  a  red  one — came  prancing  around. 

"  '  Hey ! '  he  said  to  me,  '  you  see  IVe  got  your  cap,  you  d — d 
rebel!' 

"  '  Yes,'  I  replied,  '  but  you  are  only  getting  back  your  own 
property.  I  got  that  from  a  Brooklyn  Fire  Zouave,  and  you  are 
entitled  to  it,  I  suppose.  I  killed  the  owner.' 

"  This  was  really  the  case.  In  the  charge  made  by  Colonel 
Fitz  Lee,  near  Annandale,  a  short  time  before,  I  had  lost  my 
hat  in  running  the  enemy,  and  came  nearly  up  with  two  of  them 
who  had  jumped  the  fence  and  were  scudding  through  the  pines. 
I  threw  myself  from  the  saddle  over  the  fence,  and  aiming  at 
one  of  the  Yankees,  shot  him  through  the  breast.  I  called  to 
the  other  to  surrender,  but  he  turned  round  and  levelled  his  car 
bine  at  me,  not  more  than  ten  steps  off.  I  had  no  load  in  my 
pistol,  and  would  have  been  a  dead  man,  had  it  not  been  for  one 
of  my  friends  in  the  road,  who  fired  on  the  Yankee  just  as  he 
took  aim  at  me.  The  ball  passed  just  over  my  shoulder,  and 
struck  him  in  the  face,  and  he  fell.  I  took  off  his  pistol-belt  and 
pistol ;  and  as  I  had  no  hat,  picked  up  his  red  cap  and  wore  it. 
This  was  the  same  cap  which  the  fellow  prancing  round  had  on. 


430  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

"  When  we  came  near  Langly,  the  General,  McCall,  came  out 
with  his  division,  and  I  heard  him  say,  that  he  had  heard  the 
firing,  and  thought  Bayard  had  been  ambushed  by  the  whole 
rebel  army. 

"  '  It  was  worth  your  while,  general,'  I  said,  '  to  bring  out  your 
division  to  capture  four  men? 

"  *  Who  is  this?'  asked  General  McCall. 

"  'Captain  Darrell,  one  of  the  prisoners,  General,'  said  an  officer. 

"  The  general  ordered  me  to  be  brought  to  him,  and  asked  me 
who  I  was.  I  told  him  and  he  said : 

"  *  You  are  from  the  Confederate  army,  are  you  not,  Captain  ?  ' 

u  '  Yes,  sir,'  I  replied.  , 

"  '  What  is  their  force  in  front  of  us? ' 

"  4  General  McCall,'  I  said,  '  you  ought  to  know  that  that  is 
not  a  proper  question  to  ask  me ;  and  that  it  would  be  highly 
improper  for  me  to  give  you  any  information  upon  the  subject. 
I  am  a  soldier,  sir,  and  know  my  duty  too  well  for  that.' 

"  He  laughed  and  said  no  more ;  and  then  Colonel  Bayard 
came  up,  and  talked  with  me  a  short  time ;  he  was  not  wounded. 
He  only  asked  what  command  I  belonged  to  and  then  rode  on. 

"  That  evening  we  were  put  in  a  wagon,  and  carried  to  Wash 
ington — Decaradeux  and  myself.  I  don't  know  what  became  of 
Coleman.  Here  we  were  put  in  the  third  story  of  the  Old  Capi 
tol,  and  I  soon  understood  that  the}r  were  trying  to  make  out 
that  I  was  a  spy,  and  hang  me  as  such.  When  they  asked  me 
my  name,  I  told  them  Captain  Darrell,  of  General  Bonham's 
Staff,  as  General  Bonham,  who  was  an  old  acquaintance  of  mine, 
had  often  urged  me  to  accept  a  commission  in  the  C.  S.  A.,  to 
protect  me  if  I  was  captured.  He  told  me  he  could  easily  pro 
cure  one  for  me,  as  at  that  time  they  were  making  appointments 
every  day ;  but  I  replied  that  I  would  rather  remain  free,  as 
they  might  put  me  off  in  some  fort  somewhere,  when  I  would 
never  lay  eyes  on  a  Yankee.  He  then  told  me  to  consider  my 
self  his  volunteer  aide,  on  his  staff;  and  accordingly  I  reported 
myself  as  such,  and  was  so  published  in  the  morning  papers. 

"  I  was  constantly  scheming  how  to  escape  while  in  prison, 
but  had  crowds  of  inquisitive  visitors  coming  in  on  me  at  all 


ADVENTURES  OF  DARRELL.  431 

times,  and  pestering  me  to  death.    One  day  a  big  pompous  army 
surgeon  came  in  and  flourished  around,  with 

"'Well,  Captain — hem! — you  young  fellows  have  got  your 
selves  into  a  bad  scrape — hem  ! ' 

"  *  Not  that  I  am  aware  of,  sir,'  I  repli^  ••  x)lly.     '  How  so?  ' 

"  '  Why,  you  came  inside  of  our  lines  by  night,  and  waylaid 
our  troops,  against  all  the  usages  of  civilized  warfare,  sir.' 

"  '  I  was  on  a  scout,  like  General  Bayard,'  I  returned. 

" '  A  s  out,  sir! '  he  exclaimed,  growing  red  in  the  face;  '  we 

pere  on  a  reconnaissance^  sir,  with  a 
>f  one  thousand  cavalry,  sir ! ' 

4  Well,  /was  on  a  reconnaissance,  too,  with  a  force  of  four  in 
fantry  men.  You  came  out  to  reconnoitre  us,  and  we  reconnoitred 
you.  The  reconnoitring  parties  happened  to  meet  on  the  road, 
and  my  reconnoitring  party  got  the  better  of  yours? 

u  This  seemed  to  make  him  furious.  He  swelled,  and  swag 
gered,  and  puffed,  like  a  big  turkey-gobbler,  and  tried  to  frown 
me  down,  but  it  was  not  successful. 

"  '  Well,  sir,'  he  said,  '  if  you  did  get  the  better  of  us,  you  at 
least  are  our  prisoner,  sir ;  and  there  are  grave  charges  against 
you,  sir — very  grave  charges,  sir! ' 

"  I  began  to  get  mad,  and  asked  him  what  he  meant  by  that. 

"  *  I  mean,  sir,'  he  said,  raising  his  voice  and  swelling  out  his 
breast,  '  that  you  have  shot  a  doctor,  sir  ! — yes,  sir ;  a  DOCTOR,  sir  ! ' 

"  '  What  doctor  ?     Where  did  I  shoot  a  doctor  ?  ' 

"'On  the  road,  sir!  He  was  a  doctor,  sir;  the  officer  you 
killed,  sir !  a  non-combatant,  without  arms,  in  the  performance 
of  his  official  duties,  sir ! ' 

"  '  Oh !  a  doctor  was  he ! '  I  said,  '  a  doctor  !  Well,  you  doctors 
ought  to  take  care  how  you  ride  along  at  the  head  of  columns 
of  cavalry  in  our  country,  and  put  yourselves  in  the  way  of  balls, 
in  uniform,  with  straps  on  your  shoulders.  It  is  dangerous.' 

"  '  He  was  a  doctor,  sir  ;  I  say  !  a  non-combatant !  a  DOCTOR, 
sir ;  and  you  murdered  him  !  yes,  murdered  him,  sir ! ' 

"  ;  Look  here,  sir,'  I  said;  '  this  is  my  room  and  if  you  can't 
behave  yourself  in  it,  I  wish  you  to  leave  it.  I  wish  to  have 
no  more  of  your  talk  !  ' 


432  WEARING    OF  THE    GRAY. 

"  c  Oh,  well,  sir  !  very  well,  sir  ! ' 

"  And  the  doctor  swaggered  out.  The  next  who  came  was  a 
Major,  a  little  smiling  finicky  fellow,  who  was  oily  and  polite  in 
his  manner,  and  seemed  uncommonly  friendly. 

"  '  This  is  an  unfortunate -affair,  Captain,'  he  began  in  a  sympa 
thizing  tone. 

"  'Not  very,'  I  said. 

"  '  I  fear  it  is.  You  see,  you  were  taken  inside  of  our  lines,  and 
it  is  probable  you  will  be  treated  as  a  spy.' 

"  '  I  reckon  not,  sir.' 

"  '  Why,  so  I  hear,  at  least.  Do  you  often  enter  our  lines, 
Captain  ? '  * 

"  '  I  have  done  so;  frequently.' 

"  '  In  citizen's  dress,  Captain  ?  '  he  inquired,  smiling ;  and  then 
I  saw  what  he  was  after,  and  was  on  my  guard. 
•   "  '  No,'  I  replied,  1 1  come  with  my  arms  to  make  a  military 
reconnoissance. ' 

"  '  Do  your  officers  enter  our  lines  in  this  way  often,  Captain  ?  ' 

"  'Well,'  I  said,  'tolerably  often.  Colonel  Fitz  Lee  made  a 
reconnoissance  or  scout,  as  you  please,  down  beyond  Annandale, 
the  other  day,  with  a  squadron  of  cavalry  ;  and  General  Jeb 
Stuart  is  particularly  fond  of  such  expeditions — indulging  in 
them  frequently.' 

He  tried  to  make  me  commit  myself  in  several  other  ways, 
but  finding  he  could  not  succeed,  got  up  and  left.  After  that  1 
told  the  sentinel  at  my  door  not  to  admit  any  more  of  them — 
which,  however,  I  lost  by,  as  they  would  not  allow  my  friends  to 
^  come  and  see  me,  or  any  of  the  delicacies  they  sent  to  reach  me. 
They  permitted  me  to  walk  in  the  yard,  however,  but  forbade  the 
prisoners  to  exchange  any  words  or  signs  with  those  confined 
above.  One  day  I  saw  some  ladies  at  an  upper  window  of  the  pri 
son,  who  waved  their  handkerchiefs  to  me,  and  I  took  off  my  hat  to 
them.  The  sentinel  told  me  it  was  against  orders,  but  I  replied 
that  in  the  South  gentlemen  always  returned  the  salutation  of 
ladies — and  I  didn't  mind  him.  One  of  the  ladies  then  dropped 
a  little  secession  flag,  made  of  riband ;  and  I  picked  it  up  and 
put  it  in  my  hat.  The  sentinel  ordered  me  to  take  it  out,  but  I 


ADVENTURES  OF  DARRELL.  433 

refused  ;  and  told  him  to  call  bis  Sergeant.  The  Sergeant  came, 
and  I  told  him  to  call  the  officer  of  the  guard.  I  was  going  on 
through  the  officer  of  the  guard,  and  the  officer  of  the  day,  up 
to  the  Provost-Marshal ;  but  the  officer  of  the  guard  was  an  old 
Lieutenant,  who  said,  '  Oh,  everybody  knows  his  politics.  There 
is  no  harm  in  letting  him  wear  a  riband  in  his  hat.'  So  I 
continued  to  wear  it. 

"  One  of  the  ladies  was  Mrs.  Greenough,  and  she  had  a  little 
daughter  of  about  twelve  or  thirteen,  who  used  to  run  about  the 
prison  and  visit  all  the  rooms,  as  the  sentinel  would  not  stop 
such  a  mere  child.  She  and  myself  became  great  friends,  and 
one  day  she  brought  me  some  flowers  from  her  mother,  and 
whispered — for  a  guard  was  always  present — that  I  would  find  a 
note  in  them.  I  found  the  note,  and  after  that  carried  on  quite  a 
correspondence.  I  would  make  her  a  present  of  an  apple,  which 
I  had  cut  and  hollowed  out — putting  a  note  in  it,  and  then  stick 
ing  it  together  again.  As  the  crowd  were  going  down  to  dinner 
one  day,  I  slipped  up  instead  of  down,  and  went  into  Mrs. 
Greenough's  room,  and  had  a  long  talk  with  her  and  another  lady 
who  was  with  her  ;  getting  back  again  without  discovery. 

"  I  was  always  thinking  of  plans  to  escape,  however,  and  three 
schemes  suggested  themselves.  Either  to  bribe  the  sentinel  in  the 
back  yard  not  to  see  us — or  stab  the  sentinels  at  the  outer  and 
inner  door — or  drop  out  of  the  front  window  by  blankets  torn 
in  strips,  just  as  the  sentry  walked  off  on  his  beat,  taking  the 
chances  of  his  fire  when  he  discovered  us.  I  had  two  associates 
in  these  plans,  a  prisoner  named  Conner,  and  Lieutenant  Harry 
Stewart.  They  preferred  the  first,  while  I  liked  the  last  best. 
Our  plan  was  to  escape  to  Baltimore,  where  some  friends  were 
fitting  out  secretly  a  tug  with  guns  on  it,  to  run  down  the  bay, 
and  attack  Burnside's  transports.  This  played  exactly  into  my 
hand — to  cut  and  slash,  and  blaze  away  at  them — and  I  was  so 
anxious  to  undertake  the  expedition,  instead  of  being  sent  down 
tamely,  with  a  white  flag  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  to  be  ex 
changed  at  Fortress  Monroe,  that  when  they  told  me  I  would  be 
regarded  as  a  prisoner  of  war  and  soon  released,  I  did  not  give 
up  my  plan  of  escaping.  It  was  all  stopped,  though,  by  Major 

28 


4:34  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

Wood's  coming  into  my  and  Decaradeux's  room,  and  telling  us  he 
suspected  something,  and  had  put  Conner  and  Harry  Stewart 
into  solitary  confinement. 

"Before  I  could  arrange  any  new  plan  Decaradeux  and  my 
self  were  exchanged,  and  I  was  free  again.  It  was  well  I  didn't 
adopt  Harry  Stewart's  plan.  After  a  while  he  was  allowed  to  go 
back  to  his  room,  and  having  bribed  the  two  sentinels  in  the 
back  yard,  he  attempted  with  Conner  to  escape  one  night.  Just 
as  he  raised  the  window  to  get  out,  one  of  the  sentinels  said, 

'There  is  the  d d  rascal — fire  on  him  ! '  The  man  fired,  and 

shot  him  through  the  heart.  I  don't  know  what  became  of  Con 
ner. 

"  When  I  got  to  Richmond,  I  set  off  for  Centreville  to  get  my 
trunk,  intending  to  go  out  and  join  some  friends  in  the  South 
west  ;  but  General  Stuart  met  me  there ;  gave  me  a  fine  horse  ; 
and  told  me  if  I  would  stay  with  him,  he  would  show  me  some 
sport. 

"  I  accepted  his  offer ;  and  have  been  with  him  ever  since." 


IV. 

INCIDENTS  ON  THE   PENINSULA. 

Having  given  me  the  history  of  his  adventures  at  Langly 
and  in  Washington,  Captain  Darrell  yawned,  and  persisted  in 
changing  the  subject.  It  was  evident  that  he  had  made  up  his 
mind  not  to  talk  any  more  at  that  time  upon  military  matters ; 
and  we  accordingly  passed  to  other  topics. 

He  was  here  again  yesterday,  however,  and  I  immediately 
attacked  him  on  the  subject  of  his  adventures. 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  You  are  making  me  talk  too  much  about  myself,"  said  the 
Captain,  "  and  I  will  get  up  the  reputation  of  a  boaster.  One 
of  the  greatest  dangers  with  hunters,  partisans,  and  scouts,  is  the 
temptation  to  exaggerate,  and  tell  'good  stories/  All  that  I 
say  is  true,  and  scouting  with  me  is  no  more  than  hunting — as 


ADVENTURES  OF  DARRELL.  435 

if  it  were  after  bear  or  deer — and  I  speak  of  it  as  such.  But  I 
don't  wish  to  be  thought  a  boaster." 

It  was  some  time  before  I  could  eradicate  from  the  Captain's 
mind  the  impression  that  his  histories  were  listened  to  with  sen 
timents  of  cynical  doubt.  He  yielded  very  gradually — thawing 
very  slowly  before  the  warmth  of  my  assurances;  but  at  last  I 
succeeded  in  quieting  his  scruples,  and  getting  him  in  a  talkative 
humour.  One  thing  led  to  another ;  this  incident  brought  forth 
that ;  and  finally  the  Captain  was  persuaded  to  give  me  the  fol 
lowing  story  of  his  adventures  at  Williamsburg. 

As  before,  I  give  the  narrative  almost  exactly  in  the  words  of 
the  speaker.  It  was  as  follows : 

"  I  might  as  well  commence  at  the  beginning.  On  the  retreat 
from  Yorktown.  last  spring,  when  our  army  was  falling  back  to 
the  Chickahominy,  I  was  with  General  Stuart,  and  the  cavalry 
were  retiring  by  the  Telegraph  and  Williamsburg  roads,  covering 
our  rear.  These  two  roads  make  a  sort  of  triangle ;  like  the 
two  sides  of  the  letter  Y,  the  point  of  the  Y  being  down  the 
Peninsula.  The  Williamsburg  road  was  the  left  side  of  the  Y 
—look  at  these  two  straws — and  the  Telegraph  road  the  other. 
There  were  two  by-roads  running  through  the  triangle  and  con 
necting  the  main  roads.  If  you  have  a  clear  idea  of  this,  you 
will  understand  what  took  place  easily. 

"  The  cavalry  were  falling  back  in  two  columns  upon  the 
Telegraph  and  Williamsburg  roads.  General  Stuart  being  in 
command  of  the  force  on  the  latter.  He  was  anxious  to  keep 
up  thorough  communications  with  the  other  column,  however, 
and  as  I  was  familiar  with  every  part  of  that  country,  he  sent 
me  with  Captain  Conner,  of  the  Jeff.  Davis  Legion,  who  was 
ordered  to  cut  across  with  a  party,  leave  pickets  at  openings,  and 
see  that  the  cavalry  on  the  Telegraph  road  fell  back  regularly  in 
good  order — parallel  with  the  other  column,  and  neither  too  fast 
nor  too  slow.  Well,  I  proceeded  with  Captain  Conner  along 
the  sort  of  bridle  path  which  was  the  lowest  down  of  the  two 
which  I  have  mentioned,  as  connecting  the  main  roads,  keeping 
a  keen  look-out  for  the  enemy,  who,  I  was  pretty  sure,  were  all 


436  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

around  us.  The  pines  were  too  thick  to  see  much,  however— 
you  know  what  sort  of  a  country  it  is — and  we  went  on  rather 
blindly.  About  half  way  we  met  a  countryman  who  was  lead 
ing  a  cow  by  the  horns,  and  he  told  us  that  a  party  of  the 
enemy's  cavalry  had  just  passed  along  the  other  cross  road 
above  toward  the  Williamsburg  road. 

"It  occurred  to  me  at  once  that  our  men  on  the  Telegraph 
road  had  fallen  back  more  rapidly  than  the  other  column,  and 
unmasked  the  mouth  of  the  upper  cross  road,  which  the  enemy 
had  then  struck  into,  intending  to  get  into  the  Williamsburg 
road  and  cut  the  General  off.  I  stated  my  opinion  to  Captain 
Conner,  but  he  seemed  to  think  differently.  The  cavalry  wjiich 
the  countryman  had  seen  could  not  possibly  be  any  but  our 
own,  he  said.  I  stuck  to  it,  however,  that  they  were  probably 
the  enemy's;  and  as  the  countryman  told  us  they  were  then 
drawn  up  on  the  cross  road,  I  offered  to  go  and  reconnoitre. 
Captain  Conner  said  he  would  go  with  me,  and  we  started  off  at 
a  gallop  through  the  pines  toward  the  spot  where  the  man  said 
they  were. 

"  When  I  got  within  fifty  yards  I  could  see  a  party  of  cavalry 
drawn  up,  as  the  countryman  stated,  and  I  was  sure  they  were 
Yankees.  Captain  Conner  still  adhered  to  his  opinion,  however, 
that  they  were  a  part  of  our  own  force,  and  I  told  him  I  would 
dismount,  creep  up,  and  determine  the  matter.  He  agreed  ;  and 
I  got  off  my  horse,  threw  the  bridle  over  a  stump,  and  crept 
through  the  pine  brush  until  I  was  within  fifteen  feet  of  them. 
I  saw  the  blue  pantaloons  and  jackets  plainly,  and  knew  they 
were  Federals  ;  so  I  crept  back  toward  my  horse.  At  the  same 
moment — it  all  occurred  in  a  twinkling — I  heard,  *  Halt !  halt ! 
halt!  halt!  bang!  bang!  bang!'  in  front,  and  saw  Captain 
Conner,  who  had  pushed  on,  certain  that  they  were  Confederates, 
taken  prisoner  by  the  enemy.  I  had  mounted,  and  the  first 
thing  I  knew  I  was  in  the  midst  of  them — carried  by  my  horse, 
who  became  ungovernable — and  I  saw  that  my  best  chance 
would  be  to  make  straight  for  the  Williamsburg  road,  which  was 
not  far,  and  if  I  got  out,  inform  the  General  that  a  party  was 
lying  in  wait  for  him.  I  ran  through  them,  followed  by  bang  ! 


ADVENTURES  OF  DARRELL.  437 

bang  !  bang !  from  their  carbines,  and  drove  ahead  into  the  Wil- 
liamsburg  road — right  plump  against  a  column  of  the  enemy's 
cavalry,  drawn  up  to  charge  the  General,  when  he  came  near 
enough.  My  horse  ran  right  against  a  Yankee's,  who  wiped  at 
me  with  his  sabre — for  they  all  had  their  sabres  drawn — and 
just  missed  me.  I  was  going  so  fast  though  that  I  passed  straight 
through  the  column,  and  seeing  that  the  other  side  of  the  road 
was  lined  with  heavy  undergrowth,  I  jumped  off  my  horse  and 
ran  in,  leaving  my  horse  to  the  Yankees. 

"  They  banged  away  at  me  as  I  went  in,  but  only  a  few  had 
their  carbines  ready,  and  they  did  not  come  near  me.  They 
could  not  follow  me,  as  the  pines  were  too  thick  for  any  horse 
man  to  enter.  My  object  now  was  to  get  back  to  the  General 
and  tell  him  of  the  attempt  to  cut  him  off.  I  thought  I  would 
reconnoitre,  however,  first,  and  ascertain  their  force,  so  I  crept 
up  to  the  edge  of  the  bushes,  and  looked  out.  As  I  did  so,  I 
saw  them  moving  backwards  and  forwards,  greatly  excited, 
with  *  Here  they  are  ! '  '  Look  out ! '  but  soon  afterwards  they 
fell  back,  apparently  looking  for  a  better  position.  The  next 
thing  I  saw  was  Colonel  Goode,  of  the  Third  Cavalry,  coming 
up  the  road,  and  I  ran  out  and  met  him,  telling  him  what  I 
knew,  and  stating  that  they  were  going  to  charge  him.  He 
drew  his  men  up  on  the  right  of  the  road  so  as  to  let  the  Yan 
kees  charge  by,  and  slash  into  them  ;  and  as  I  had  no  horse  I 
got  into  the  bushes  just  in  advance  of  the  head  of  the  column, 
intending  to  shoot  the  commander  of  the  Federal  cavalry  as  soon 
as  I  could  see  him  well.  I  had  my  carbine  and  pistol,  which  I 
had  hung  on  to  through  all,  and  soon  I  heard  the  enemy  com 
ing,  shouting  and  yelling,  right  down  on  Colonel  Goode. 

"  As  they  came  within  about  fifteen  yards,!  levelled  my  carbine 
at  the  officer  in  front,  and  pulled  trigger ;  but  the  cursed  thing 
snapped.  I  had  been  skirmishing  all  day,  and  it  had  got  dirty. 
I  fired  my  pistol  into  them,  however,  and  the  Federal  Cavalry 
halted,  both  sides  sitting  in  the  saddle  and  banging  away  with 
carbines.  Our  men  had  the  better  of  it,  though,  as  the  Yankees  had 
their  sabres  drawn,  and  we  got  the  first  fire  on  them,  killing 
several  of  them,  I  saw  in  the  road  afterwards.  I  wounded  three 


438  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

or  four  myself,  and  was  still  popping  at  them  when  they  con 
cluded  to  give  it  up,  and  go  back.  They  turned  round,  and  I 
ran  out,  looking  for  a  good  horse,  as  several  were  running  about 
without  riders.  I  got  a  good  one,  but  found  he  was  wounded, 
and  just  then  I  saw  a  splendid  black  stallion,  who  took  my  eye 
wonderfully.  I  tried  to  catch  hftn — walking  up  and  holloing 
'  woe ! '  to  him — but  whenever  I  got  near,  he  trotted  off,  and  I 
missed  him.  I  determined  not  to  give  it  up,  however— and  I 
kept  following  and  trying  to  catch  him  until  I  was  at  least  a  mile 
and  a  half  back  toward  Williamsburg.  I  caught  him  at  last, 
mounted  him,  and  started  back  toward  the  scene  of  the  skirmish. 
I  remember  feeling  in  fine  spirits,  and  looking  down  at  my 
splendid  stallion,  who  was  full  of  fire  and  spirit — a  big  black  fel 
low,  the  very  horse  I  wanted — admiring  his  neck  and  action.  I 
was  still  examining  him,  with  my  head  down,  as  we  went  on  at  full 
speed  toward  the  spot  where  I  expected  to  find  Colonel  Goode, 
when  suddenly  I  heard  a  quick  'Halt!  halt!  halt!'  'Here's 
one  of  'em ! '  in  front ;  and  a  carbine  ball  whizzed  by  me.  I 
looked  up,  and  there  was  the  enemy  in  the  road  instead  of  Colonel 
Goode,  who  had  fallen  back.  They  had  got  reinforcements,  and 
brought  up  artillery  to  plant  in  the  road — and  I  had  run  right 
into  them ! 

"  There  was  only  one  thing  for  me  to  do,  and  that  was  to  get 
away  from  there  as  fast  as  possible.  I  accordingly  wheeled  round 
and  went  back  over  the  same  road  I  had  come,  followed  by  a 
dozen  men,  shouting  'halt!  halt!  halt!'  and  firing  at  me.  I 
leaned  over  on  my  horse,  and  could  hear  the  balls  whizzing  by  me 
every  second — I  afterwards  found  the  accoutrements,  especially 
the  thick  bundle  behind  the  saddle,  full  of  bullet  holes.  I  would 
have  got  away  from  them,  but  all  at  once  my  horse  threw  up  his 
head — a  ball  had  passed  clean  through  it.  He  still  kept  on, 
however,— horses  will  go  long  with  that  sort  of  wound— but 
another  bullet  struck  him  right  behind  my  leg,  on  the  left  side, 
and  I  felt  him  staggering.  The  party  saw  this,  and  set  up  a 
whoop,  which  was  rather  too  near.  I  saw  that  they  would  catch 
me,  if  I  depended  on  my  horse,  so  I  threw  myself  off  and  ran 
down  a  little  path  in  the  bushes,  by  the  side  of  the  road,  and  did 


ADVENTURES  OF  DARRELL.  439 

not  stop  until  I  was  well  concealed.  They  fired  at  me  and 
around  several  times,  but  as  they  were  afraid  of  coming  on 
our  infantry,  they  gave  it  up,  and  rode  away. 

"  As  soon  as  they  were  gone  I  came  out  of  the  bushes,  and 
went  to  my  horse.  He  had  fallen  in  the  road,  and  I  took  from 
him  several  articles  strapped  to  the  saddle,  and  left  him  to  die. 

"I  knew  now  that  the  General  would  retire  by  the  Beach 
road,  the  only  one  left,  and  I  determined  to  strike  across  and  join 
him,  trusting  to  luck  to  get  a  horse  somewhere.  I  accordingly 
set  out  in  that  direction,  trusting  to  my  skill  to  flank  the  enemy's 
pickets,  which  I  knew  I  could  do,  and  get  through.  My  only 
fear  was  that  I  would  be  shot  by  our  own  pickets,  as  it  was  now 
getting  dusk.  I  went  on,  through  the  woods  and  fields,  avoid 
ing  the  enemy's  fires  whenever  I  saw  them,  and  approaching  our 
lines.  I  had  got  very  nearly  through,  when  suddenly  I  came 
upon  three  cavalrymen  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  near  a  little 
bridge  I  had  to  pass.  I  was  sure  they  were  Yankees,  so  I  cocked 
my  pistol,  and  walked  up  to  them  boldly,  saying  in  a  loud  com 
monplace  tone — 

"  '  Hem  ! — ah  ! — what  company  do  you  belong  to,  men  ?  ' 

"  '  Company  A,  sir.' 

"  This  was  not  sufficient.  Company  A  might  be  a  Yankee  com 
pany.  So  I  said, 

"'What  regiment?' 

"  '  The  Fourth.' 

"  This  was  no  more  definite  than  the  other. 

"  '  Ah ! '  I  said,  '  ahem— the  Fourth,  eh  ?  Fourth  New  York, 
I  suppose  ? ' 

"  '  No — the  Fourth  Virginia,'  replied  one  of  the  men.  I  never 
was  more  relieved  in  my  life,  and  told  them  how  things  stood,  and 
which  way  to  look  out.  I  went  on  through  the  awful  mud,  and 
when  I  had  gone  some  distance  met  a  regiment  of  Confederate 
infantry  coming  down,  with  an  officer  on  horseback  at  their 
head,  who  was  very  much  out  of  humour. 

u  '  Where  is  the  post  ?  '  he  was  saying.  1 1  don't  believe  it  is  this 
way,  and  we  must  have  come  in  the  wrong  direction.  Where 
is  the  regiment  to  be  relieved  ?  ' 


440  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

"  I  recognised  General  Pryor,  and  said : 

"  4 1  can  tell  you,  General.' 

"  *  Hello  !  who's  that ! '  he  replied,  looking  through  the  dark, 
'  how  did  you  know  me  ?  ' 

"  '  By  your  voice.  I  remember  meeting  you  at  the  Commercial 
Convention  in  Knoxville,  to  which  I  was  a  delegate— and  making 
your  acquaintance.' 

"  '  What  is  your  name,  sir  ?  ' 

"  I  told  him,  and  added, 

"  '  The  regiment  you  are  looking  for  is  down  in  the  fortifica 
tions,  in  that  direction ;  and  though  it  will  be  going  back,  I  will 
act  as  your  guide.' 

"  So  I  went  with  him,  and  finding  some  friends  in  the  Nine 
teenth  Mississippi,  commanded  by  Colonel  Mott,  a  friend  of  mine, 
I  lay  down,  and  went  to  sleep. 

"  On  the  next  morning,  I  was  still  talking  with  my  friends  of 
the  Nineteenth,  when  chancing  to  look  toward  the. front,  I  saw  a 
line  of  men  advancing  through  the  brushwood,  who,  I  was  cer 
tain,  were  Yankees.  It  was  drizzling,  and  no  attack  was  ex 
pected,  though  we  knew  that  the  enemy  was  right  in  our  front ; 
and  when  I  told  the  Lieutenant,  in  command  of  the  company 
I  was  with,  that  the  men  in  front  were  certainly  Yankees,  he  did 
not  believe  it. 

"  *  They  can't  be,'  he  said  ;  '  they  are  a  party  of  our  own  men 
who  have  been  out  on  a  scout  toward  the  enemy,  and  are  com 
ing  in.' 

"  As  he  was  speaking,  the  line  came  on  steadily,  and  I  saw 
distinctly  the  blue  pantaloons,  and  oil-cloth  capes  thrown  over 
their  heads  as  a  protection  from  the  rain.  I  knew  from  this 
that  it  was  the  enemy,  as  none  of  our  men  had  capes ;  and  I 
jumped  up,  crying  to  the  men  : 

"  *  They  are  Yankees!     Fire,  men  !     They  are  right  on  you ! ' 

"  *  Hold  your  fire ! '  shouted  the  Lieutenant,  *  don't  shoot  your 
friends !  It  is  some  of  the  Seventh  Alabama  from  our  left.' 

'"There  are  no  troops  on  our  left! '  I  replied,  'the  Seventh 
Alabama  is  on  the  right,  and  those  people  are  Yankees !  Fire, 
men ! ' 


ADVENTURES  OF  DARRELL.  441 

"  And  I  ran  out  pointing  at  them  where  they  were  advancing, 
within  twenty  yards,  in  the  pines. 

"  '  Don't  fire,  I  say  ! '  shouted  the  Lieutenant  to  his  men,  '  they 
are  friends ! ' 

"  Well,  I'll  take  the  responsibility,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned! 7 
I  said ;  and  levelling  my  carbine  I  took  aim,  and  saw  one  of 
the  men  fall.  As  soon  as  I  shot,  the  whole  party  stopped  sud 
denly,  as  though  they  were  astonished. 

"  '  Fire ! '  I  cried  to  the  Mississippians,  '  give  it  to  'era,  boys ! ' 
Charge ! ' 

"  And  I  blazed  away  with  my  pistol  as  I  ran  toward  them. 
They  did  not  wait  for  the  expected  charge — it  turned  out  to  be 
only  a  company — and  broke  and  ran.  I  followed,  and  came  to 
the  man  I  had  shot,  who  was  dying.  His  gun  was  lying  by 
him,  and  I  seized  it,  and  fired  on  them  as  they  were  running ; 
but  finding  no  one  following  me,  I  concluded  I  had  better  go 
back.  When  I  got  to  the  fortification  I  found  Colonel  Mott 
there,  attracted  by  the  firing ;  and  showed  him  the  gun  I  had 
brought  back,  telling  him  that  they  were  Yankees. 

"' Certainly  they  were,'  he  replied,  'and  the  Lieutenant  in 
command  ought  to  have  known  that  there  were  none  of  our 
troops  on  the  left.7 

"  As  I.  had  nothing  to  do,  I  proposed  to  the  Colonel  that  if 
he  would  give  me  half-a-dozen  men  I  would  go  and  scout  in 
front,  and  bring  him  any  information  I  could  procure  of  the 
enemy's  movements.  He  agreed  to  this,  and  called  for  volun 
teers.  A  dozen  men  stepped  out,  but  I  told  him  I  did  not  want 
more  than  six ;  and  with  these,  I  went  along  in  the  track  of  the 
party  of  Yankees.  I  remember  one  of  them  was  named  Bryant, 
a  first-rate  man,  and  he  stuck  to  rne  all  day,  though  he  was 
wounded ;  but  he  would  not  leave  me. 

"  Well,  I  followed  the  party,  marching  the  men  in  single  file, 
and  looking  out  every  moment  for  the  Yankees.  I  came  on 
their  trail  at  last,  and  thought  I  could  hear  the  hum  of  their 
voices  just  over  a  knoll  in  front  of  me.  The  woods  there  have 
hollows  in  them,  and  you  can  get  very  close  to  a  party  of  men 
without  knowing  it  if  they  are  in  one  of  them.  There  was  a 


442  WEARING    OF   THE    GRAY. 

hollow  of  this  sort  just  before  me,  and  the  hill  sloped  up  in  such 
a  way,  that  you  could  get  right  on  them  and  not  be  perceived. 
I  crept  up  the  side  of  the  hill,  going  from  tree  to  tree,  looking 
and  listening.  I  could  not  see  anybody,  but  I  was  sure  1  heard 
the  hum  of  voices  not  far  off;  and  I  determined  to  reconnoitre 
and  ascertain  who  the  party  were.  I  accordingly  went  cautiously 
up  the  hill,  to  peep  over,  leaving  my  men  behind. 

"Just  as  I  got  near  the  top  I  heard  the  tramp  of  feet,  and 
could  see  the  heads  of  the  men  coming  up  the  hill.  The  officer 
in  command  was  walking  in  front,  and  before  I  knew  it  he  was 
right  on  me,  within  three  yards. 

"  '  Dress  up  to  the  right ! '  he  cried  quickly  to  his  men. 

"  '  Dress  up,  yourself,  sir  !  '  I  shouted  to  him,  suddenly. 

"  And  as  I  spoke,  I  levelled  my  carbine  at  his  breast,  fired, 
and  shot  him  through  the  body.  Before  the  enemy  had  reco 
vered  from  their  surprise,  I  shouted  back,  as  if  I  was  speaking  to 
my  company : 

"  '  Charge  'em,  men !     Fire  on  'em  !     Char-r-r-rge !  ' 

"  And  I  set  the  example  by  firing  my  pistol  as  fast  as  I  could 
at  their  heads,  which  was  all  I  could  see  above  the  hill.  The}' 
fired  a  volley  at  me,  but  their  position  was  too  unfavourable, 
and  the  bullets  went  whizzing  high  up  in  the  trees.  My  men 
came  up  promptly,  and  we  all  took  trees  and  commenced  skir 
mishing  with  them,  neither  side  advancing,  but  keeping  up  a 
scattering  fire  all  the  time. 

"  The  captain,  when  I  had  shot  him,  sat  down  on  the  ground, 
and  remained  there  leaning  his  shoulder  against  the  trunk  of  a 
tree.  The  tree  I  had  dodged  behind  was  not  far  off,  and  we 
carried  on  a  conversation  for  some  time  ;  I  suppose  about  half 
an  hour.  I  asked  him  why  he  had  come  down  to  the  South, 
and  he  said  he  wished  now  that  he  had  stayed  at  home.  He  said 
a  good  many  things,  but  I  don't  remember  them  now.  His 
name  was  a  singular  one;  he  told  me  what  it  was,  and  I've  got  it 
somewhere ;  his  company  was  the  47th  Sharpshooters,  New  York. 

"  I  had  shot  away  all  my  ammunition,  and  I  got  up  and  went 
to  him,  asking  him  for  his  pistol.  He  took  hold  of  the  belt,  and 
tried  to  unbuckle  it,  but  was  too  weak. 


ADVENTURES  OF  DARBELL.  443 

u '  It's  no  use,'  he  said,  '  I  can't  undo  it,  and  you  had  better 
go  back.  You  will  just  make  them  shoot  both  of  us.' 

"  He  did  not  look  as  if  he  was  shot ;  I  could  see  no  marks  of  a 
wound ;  but  soon  after  I  had  gone  back  to  my  tree,  he  raised  his 
shoulder  from  the  trunk  which  he  was  leaning  against,  sat  up 
right,  and  then  fell  upon  his  back,  dead. 

u  About  this  time  there  was  a  general  advance  of  our  line 
upon  the  enemy,  all  along ;  and  the  company  of  sharpshooters 
fell  back,  firing  as  they  went.  Our  troops  came  along,  and  charged 
their  main  line,  which  was  posted  behind  a  fence,  some  distance 
in  front ;  and  here  Colonel  Mott  was  killed  as  he  was  leading 
the  charge.  I  went  along  with  them,  but  had  first  gotten  the 
dead  officer's  sword.  As  soon  as  our  men  advanced,  and  the 
enemy  went  away,  I  came  from  behind  the  tree  where  I  had 
been  sitting  down  firing,  and  approached  the  body.  He  was 
lying  on  his  back,  with  his  e_yes  open — dead  from  my  bullet, 
which  had  passed  through  his  breast.  I  had  no  sword,  having 
left  mine  behind  that  morning;  so  I  unbuckled  his  belt,  and 
drew  it  from  under  his  body,  and  buckled  it  around  rny  own 
waist.  It  had  a  good  pistol  and  cap-pouch,  besides  the  sword, 
on  it — I  have  the  sword  still. 

"That  was  a  hot  day,"  concluded  the  Captain;  "  this  was 

where  Tom got  wounded.*  He  came  up  to  a  Federal  officer, 

a  finely  dressed  fellow,  and  ordered  him  to  surrender.  He 
obeyed,  but  made  no  motion  to  yield  his  arms.  Tom  said  : 

"  '  Give  up  your  arms,  sir ! ' 

"  The  officer  handed  over  his  sword  which  he  held  in  his 
hand ;  but  did  not  seem  to  remember  the  pistol  in  his  belt. 

"  *  Give  me  your  pistol ! '  exclaimed  Tom,  with  a  scowl  at 
him. 

"  '  I  have  surrendered  my  sword,'  was  the  reply,  '  spare  me 
the  disgrace,  sir,  of  giving  up  my  pistol  also  to  a  private!' 

"  He  had  surrendered  his  sword,  but  wished  to  spare  himself 
the  mortification  of  handing  over  his  pistol !  Tom  put  his  bay 
onet  at  him,  and  he  soon  surrendered  his  pistol. 

"  Soon  afterwards  Tom  had  a  duel  at  ten  yards  distance,  with 
a  Yankee.  They  loaded  and  fired  twenty  times  without  hitting 


444  WEARING   OF   THE    GRAY. 

each  other,  until  Tom  made  a  good  shot  and  bored  him  through 
the  breast.  He  dropped  his  musket,  threw  up  his  hands  and 
fell  back.  Tom  was  very  soon  wounded,  however,  and  was 
firing  still  when  Colonel  Baldwin  came  along  with  a  led  horse, 
and,  as  he  knew  him,  put  him  on  it.  He  was  going  to  the  rear 
when  he  saw  General  A.  P.  Hill,  sitting  by  a  stump,  smoking; 
and  as  the  young  man  was  an  acquaintance,  he  asked  him  what 
was  the  matter.  He  informed  him  that  he  was  wounded ;  and 
the  General  took  off  his  cravat,  and  tied  it  around  his  leg,  above 
the  wound.  Tom  then  rode  on  into  Williamsburg. 

"  That  was  my  great  fighting  day,  and  some  time  or  other  I 
will  tell  you  all  about  it.  I  had  command  of  two  or  three  regir 
ments,  and  never  had  more  fun  in  my  life." 


XL 
LONGBOW'S  HORSE. 


i. 

MY  friend,  Captain  Longbow,  is  a  very  different  personage  from 
Captain  Darrell.  The  latter  is  brave,  honest,  simple,  and  candid. 
He  relates  only  what  really  occurred,  and  never  unless  you  over 
come. his  repugnance  to  such  narratives :  he  is  modest,  retiring — 
the  model  of  an  officer  and  a  gentleman. 

Longbow  is  a  striking,contrast,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  to  all  this. 
He  is  a  tremendous  warrior — according  to  his  own  account ;  he 
has  performed  prodigies — if  you  can  only  believe  him ;  more 
moving  accidents  and  hair  breadth  escapes  have  happened  to 
him  than  to  any  other  soldier  in  the  service — if  they  have  only 
happened.  The  element  of  confidence  is  thus  wanting  in  the 
listener  when  Longbow  discourses,  and  you  are  puzzled  how 
much  to  believe,  how  much  to  disbelieve.  But  then  the  worthy 
is  often  amusing.  He  has  some  of  the  art  of  the  raconteur,  and 
makes  his  histories  or  stories,  his  real  events  or  his  fibs,  to  a 
certain  degree  amusing.  I  am  always  at  a  loss  to  determine  how 
much  of  Longbow's  narratives  to  believe ;  but  they  generally 
make  me  laugh.  It  is  certain  that  he  mingles  truth  with  them, 
for  many  incidents  related  by  him,  in  the  course  of  his  narratives, 
are  known  to  me  as  real  circumstances ;  and  thus  there  ever 
remains  upon  the  mind,  when  this  worthy  has  ceased  speaking, 
an  impression  that  although  the  narrative  is  fabulous,  portions 
of  it  are  true. 


446  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

These  prefatory  words  are  intended  to  introduce  the  following 
account  of  Longbow's  adventures  in  the  Valley,  when  General 
Johnston  was  opposed  to  General  Patterson  there,  in  the  summer 
of  1861,  just  before  the  battle  of  Manassas.  Some  of  the  inci 
dents  related  I  know  to  be  true ;  others,  it  is  proper  that  I  should 
warn  the  reader,  I  regard  as  purely  romantic.  The  manner  in 
which  Longbow  professed  to  have  obtained  his  "blood  bay"  I 
believe  to  be  imaginary ;  the  untimely  end  to  which  the  animal 
came  may  not,  doubtless  is  not,  of  historical  verity,  but  it  is  cer 
tain  that  an  officer  did  kill  his  horse  under  the  circumstances 
narrated.  Thus  the  mind  is  left  in  a  state  of  bewilderment  as  to 
how  much  is  true  and  how  much  is  false  in  the  worthy's  story ; 
and  perhaps  the  safest  proceeding  would  be  to  set  down  the 
whole  as  an  "historical  romance." 

I  have  thought  it  best  to  convey  this  caution  to  the  reader, 
lest  the  narrative  here  given  might  cast  discredit  upon  the  other 
papers  in  these  "  Outlines,"  which  contain,  with  the  exception  of 
"  Corporal  Shabrach"  and  "  Blunderbus,"  events  and  details  of 
strict  historical  accuracy. 

I  have  never  told  you,  said  Longbow,  of  the  curious  adven 
tures  which  I  met  with  in  the  Valley  in  1861,  and  how  I  got  my 
fine  blood  bay,  and  lost  him.  I  was  then  a  private,  but  had 
just  been  detailed  as  volunteer  aide  to  Colonel  Jackson — he  was 
not  "  General "  or  "  Stonewall "  yet — and  had  reported  a  few 
days  before  the  engagement  at  Falling  Waters. 

I  need  not  inform  you  of  the  state  of  affairs  at  that  time, 
further  than  to  say  that  while  Beau  regard  watched  the  enemy  in 
front  of  Washington,  with  his  headquarters  at  Manassas,  Johnston 
held  the  Valley  against  Patterson,  with  his  headquarters  at  Win 
chester.  Well,  it  was  late  in  June,  I  think,  when  intelligence 
came  that  General  Patterson  was  about  to  cross  the  Potomac  at 
Williamsport,  and  Colonel  Jackson  was  sent  forward  with  the 
First  Brigade,  as  it  was  then  called,  to  support  Stuart's  cavalry, 
and  feel  the  enemy,  but  not  bring  on  a  general  engagement. 
This,  the  Colonel  proceeded  to  do  with  alacrity,  and  he  had  soon 
advanced  north  of  Martinsburg,  and  camped  near  the  little  vil- 


447 

lage  of  Hainesville — Stuart  continuing  in  front  watching  the 
enemy  on  the  river. 

This  was  the  state  of  things,  when  suddenly  one  morning  we 
were  aroused  by  the  intelligence  that  Patterson  had  crossed  his 
army ;  and  Jackson  immediately  got  his  brigade  under  arms, 
intending  to  advance  and  attack  him.  He  determined,  however, 
to  move  forward  first,  with  one  regiment  and  a  single  gun — and 
this  he  did,  the  regiment  being  the  Fifth  Virginia,  Colonel 
Harper,  with  one  piece  from  Pendleton's  battery, 

I  will  not  stop  here  to  describe  the  short  and  gallant  fight  near 
Falling  Water,  in  which  Jackson  met  the  enemy  with  the  same 
obstinacy  which  afterwards  gave  him  his  name  of  u  Stonewall." 
Their  great  force,  however,  rendered  it  impossible  for  him  to 
hold  his  ground  with  one  regiment  of  less  than  four  hundred 
men,  and  finding  that  he  was  being  outflanked,  he  gave  the  order 
for  his  line  to  fall  back,  which  was  done  in  perfect  order.  It 
was  at  this  moment  that  Colonel  Jackson  pointed  out  a  cloud  of 
dust  to  me  on  the  left,  and  said : 

"  That  is  cavalry.  They  are  moving  to  attack  my  left  flank. 
Where  is  Stuart  ?  Can  you  find  him  ?  " 

"  I  think  so,  Colonel." 

"  Well,  present  my  compliments  to  him,  and  tell  him  that  the 
enemy's  cavalry  will  probably  attack  him.  Lose  no  time, 
Captain." 

I  obeyed  at  once,  and  passing  across  the  line  of  fire,  as  the 
men  fell  back  fighting,  entered  a  clump  of  woods,  and  took  a 
narrow  road,  which  led  in  the  direction  I  wished. 

My  fortune  was  bad.  I  had  scarcely  galloped  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  when  I  ran  full  tilt  into  a  column  of  Federal  cavalry,  and 
suddenly  heard  their  unceremonious  "  halt !  " 

Wheeling  round,  I  dug  the  spurs  into  my  horse,  and  darted 
into  the  woods,  but  I  was  too  late.  A  volley  came  from  the 
column  ;  my  horse  suddenly  staggered,  and  advancing  a  few 
steps,  fell  under  me.  A  bullet  had  penetrated  his  body  behind 
my  knee,  and  I  had  scarcely  time  to  extricate  myself,  when  I 
was  surrounded.  I  was  forced  to  surrender,  and  did  so  to  a 
gray-haired  officer  who  came  up  a  moment  afterwards. 


448  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

He  saluted  me,  and  seeing  my  rank  from  my  uniform,  said : 

"  I  hope  you  are  not  hurt,  Captain  ?  " 

"  ISTo,  sir,"  I  said  angrily  ;  "  and  if  my  horse  had  not  fallen, 
you  would  never  have  captured  me." 

The  old  officer  smiled. 

"  When  you  are  as  old  a  soldier  as  I  am,  sir,"  he  replied, 
"  you  will  not  suffer  these  accidents  to  move  you  so  much.  Are 
you  a  line  or  staff  officer?  " 

"  A  staff  officer." 

"  Who  commands  yonder  ?  " 

"  The  ranking  officer." 

Another  smile  came  to  his  face.  , 

"  I  see  you  are  prudent.  Well,  sir.  I  will  not  annoy  you. 
Take  this  officer  to  the  rear,"  he  added  to  a  subaltern ;  "  treat 
him  well,  but  guard  him  carefully." 

The  column  continued  its  advance,  and  I  was  conducted  to  the 
rear.  I  heard  the  firing  gradually  recede  toward  Martinsburg, 
and  knew  that  Jackson  must  be  still  falling  back.  Skirmishing 
on  the  right  of  the  column  I  moved  with,  indicated  the  presence 
of  Stuart ;  but  this  too  gradually  receded,  and  soon  word  was 
passed  along  the  line  that  the  Colonel  had  received  intelligence 
of  the  Confederates  having  retreated.  This  announcement  was 
greeted  with  a  cheer  by  the  men,  arid  the  column  continued  to 
advance,  but  soon  halted. 

That  night  I  bivouacked  by  a  camp  fire,  and  on  the  next 
morning  was  conducted  into  Martinsburg,  which  the  enemy  had 
occupied  in  force. 

I  was  on  foot,  and  of  course  had  been  deprived  of  my  arms. 

I  was  placed  in  a  house  under  guard,  with  some  other  Con 
federate  prisoners,  and  could  only  learn  from  the  Federal  Cor 
poral  that  our  forces  had  fallen  back,  south  of  the  town,  losing 
"  a  tremendous  amount  of  stores,  wagons,  tents,  commissary  and 
quartermaster  stores,  and  all  they  had."  I  laughed,  in  -spite  of 
myself,  at  this  magniloquent  statement,  knowing  in  what 
"  light  marching  order  "  Jackson  had  been,  and  resolved  philo 
sophically  to  await  the  progress  of  events. 

The  day  thus  passed,  and  on  the  next  morning  I  was  aroused 


LONGBOW'S  HORSE.  449 

from  my  bed  upon  the  floor  by  a  thundering  salvo  of  artillery. 
I  started  up  joyfully,  fully  convinced  that  Jackson  was  attack 
ing  the  town,  when  the  Corporal  came  in,  and  cried : 

"  Hurrah  for  the  glorious  Fourth !  " 

"Fourth  what?"  I  said. 

"Why,  Fourth  of  July!" 

"  Oh,  that  is  the  cause  of  the  firing,  is  it  ?  "  I  growled  ;  "  then 
I'll  finish  my  nap." 

And  I  again  lay  down.  Soon  afterwards  a  breakfast  of  "  hard 
tack,"  pork,  and  coffee,  was  supplied  to  the  prisoners,  and  I  had 
just  finished  my  meal  when  I  was  informed  that  General  Patter 
son  had  sent  for  me.  Fifteen  minutes  afterwards  I  was  conducted 
through  the  streets,  swarming  with  blue-coats,  galloping  cavalry, 
and  wagons,  to  a  fine  mansion  in  the  southern  suburbs  of  the 
town,  where  the  commanding  General  had  established  his  head 
quarters — Colonel  Falkner's. 

Here  all  was  life  and  bustle ;  splendidly  caparisoned  horses, 
held  by  orderlies,  were  pawing  the  turf  of  the  ornamented 
grounds ;  other  orderlies  were  going  and  coming ;  and  the  im 
pression  produced  upon  my  mind  was,  that  the  orderly  was  an 
established  institution.  At  the  door  was  a  sentinel  with  a  mus 
ket,  and  having  passed  this  Cerberus,  my  guard  conducted  me  to 
an  apartment  on  the  left,  where  I  was  received  by  a  staff  officer, 
whose  scowling  hauteur  was  exceedingly  offensive. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  he  growled,  looking  at  me  in  the  most  inso 
lent  manner. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  was  my  response,  in  a  tone  equally  friendly. 

"  I  will  have  no  insolence,"  was  his  enraged  reply.  "  Are 
you  the  prisoner  sent  for  by  the  General  ?  " 

"  I  am,  sir,"  was  my  reply  ;  "  and  I  shall  ascertain  from  Gene 
ral  Patterson  whether  it  is  by  his  order  that  an  officer  of  the  Con 
federate  States  Army  is  subjected  to  your  rudeness  and  insults." 

He  must  have  been  a  poor  creature  ;  for  as  soon  as  he  found 
that  I  would  not  endure  his  brow-beating  he  became  polite,  and 
went  to  announce  my  arrival. 

I  was  left  alone  in  the  ante-room  with  an  officer,  who  wrote 
so  busily  at  his  desk  that  he  seemed  not  to  have  even  been 

29 


450  WEARING    OF    THE    GRAY. 

aware  of  any  one's  presence ;  and  this  busy  gentleman  I  after 
wards  discovered  was  G-eneral  Patterson's  Adjutant-General. 


II. 

I  waited  for  half  an  hour,  when  I  was  informed  that  General 
Patterson  was  ready  to  see  me.  I  found  him  seated  at  a  table 
covered  with  papers,  which  stood  in  the  middle  of  a  large  apart 
ment  filled  with  elegant  furniture,  and  ornamented  with  a  fine 
Brussels  carpet.  On  the  mantel-piece  a  marble  clock  ticked  ;  in 
Gothic  bookcases  were  long  rows  of  richly  bound  volumes  ;  \he 
Federal  commander  had  evidently  selected  his  headquarters  with 
an  eye  to  comfort  and  convenience. 

He  was  a  person  of  good  figure  and  agreeable  countenance ; 
and  wore  the  full-dress  uniform  of  a  Major-General  of  the  U.  S. 
Army.  As  I  entered  he  rose,  advanced  a  step,  and  offered  me 
his  hand. 

:i  I  arn  glad  to  make  your  acquaintance,  Captain,"  he  said ; 
then  he  added  with  a  smile,  "I  doubt,  however,  if  you  are. 
equally  pleased  at  making  mine." 

11  Delighted,  General,  I  assure  you,"  was  my  reply,  "  though 
the  incident  to  which  I  am  indebted  for  this  honour  was  rather 
rough." 

"What  was  that?" 

"  My  horse  was  shot  and  fell  with  me." 

"  That  is  a  pity,  and  the  thing  was  unfortunate.  But  war  is 
altogether  a  rough  business.  I  am  disposed  to  agree  with  Frank 
lin,  Captain,  that  i  there  never  was  a  good  war,  or  a  bad  peace.' 
But  we  will  not  discuss  this  vexed  question — you  are  Captain 
Longbow,  I  believe." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Of  Colonel  Jackson's  command?  " 

"  Of  the  command  which  engaged  you  the  day  before  yester 
day." 

General  Patterson  smiled. 

"I  see  you  are  reticent,  and  it  is  a  good  habit  in  a  soldier. 


. 

LONGBOW'S  HOUSE.  451 

But  I  know  that  Colonel  Jackson  commanded,  and  from  his  bold 
ness  in  opposing  me  with  so  small  a  force,  he  must  be  a  man  of 
nerve  and  ability." 

"  He  has  that  reputation,  General." 

4<  Do  you  know  General  Johnston  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  I  am  afraid  of  his  retreats.  General  Scott  declares  that  one 
of  them  is  equal  to  a  victory." 

I  assented  with  a  bow. 

"  Colonel  Stuart,  commanding  your  cavalry,  I  do  not  know,!' 
continued  the  General,  "  but  I  am  afraid  he  gobbled  up  one  of 
rny  companies  of  infantry  just  before  the  late  fight.  That  makes 
the  number  of  prisoners  taken  considerably  in  your  favour. 
The  company  was  commanded,  however,  only  by  a  Second  Lieu 
tenant,  and  as  I  have  you,  Captain,"  he  added  with  a  smile,  "  the 
odds  are  not  so  great. 

The  General's  courtesy  and  good-humour  began  to  put  me  in 
the  same  mood,  and  I  said : 

"  How  long  are  you  going  to  keep  me,  General?  not  long,  I 
hope." 

"  Not  a  day  after  I  can  have  an  exchange." 

"That  may,  however,  be  for  a  long  time." 

u  Possibly,  but  you  shall  be  well  treated,  Captain." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  that,  General,  but  you  know  the  proverb, 
or  what  ought  to  be  a  proverb — '  to  the  exile  honey  itself  is 
bitter.'  "Well,  it  is  the  same  with  prisoners." 

"  You  shall  not  be  confined.  I  will  take  your  parole,  and  you 
can  then  have  the  freedom  of  the  town  of  Martinsburg.  Win 
chester,  too,  if  you  wish." 

"  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you,  especially  for  Winchester, 
General — but  I  cannot  accept." 
•  "  Why  not  ?  " 

"  Because  I  am  going  to  try  to  escape." 

The  General  began  to  laugh. 

"  You  will  find  it  impossible,"  he  replied ;  "  even  if  you  eluded 
the  sentinel  you  could  not  get  through  my  lines.  The  pickets 
would  stop  you." 


452    •  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

"General,"  I  said,  "you  are  really  so  very  courteous,  and  our 
interview  is  so  completely  divested  of  all  formality,  that  I  am 
tempted  to  presume  upon  it." 

"  In  what  manner  ?  " 

"  By  offering  to  make  you  a  bet." 

"  A  bet !     Well,  what  is  it  ?  "   said  the  General,  laughing. 

"  This.  My  horse  was  killed,  and  as  we  poor  Confederates  are 
not  over  rich,  I  will  lay  you  a  horse  and  equipments  that  I  make 
my  escape."  , 

The  General  greeted  this  proposal  with  evident  enjoyment. 

"In  what  time?  "  he  asked. 

"  Before  you  reach  Eichmond." 

He  made  a  humorous  grimace. 

"  Eichmond  is  a  long  way  off,  Captain— let  the  limit  be  the 
1st  day  of  August,  and  I  will  agree." 

"  Yery  well,  General ;  I  will  pay  my  bet  if  I  lose ;  and  if  I  win, 
you  will  send  me  my  horse  through  the  lines." 

"  Most  assuredly." 

At  this  moment  an  orderly  brought  in  a  dispatch,  which  the 
General  read  with  attention. 

"  From  the  front,"  he  said.  "  Jackson  is  at  Darkesville,  Cap 
tain,  and  is  preparing  to  make  a  stand  there." 

"And  you  will  attack,  I  suppose,  in  a  day  or  two,  Gene 
ral?" 

These  words  were  greeted  with  a  quick  glance,  to  which  I  re 
sponded  innocently  : 

"  As  I  have  no  chance  to  escape  in  that  time,  you  could  reply 
without  an  indiscretion,  could  you  not,  General  ?  " 

"  Caution  is  never  amiss,  my  dear  Captain,"  he  replied ;  "I  pa}r 
you  a  compliment  in  imitating  your  own  reticence.  But  here  is 
unother  dispatch.  Excuse  me  while  I  read  it." 

The  contents  of  the  paper  seemed  to  be  important;  for  the 
General  turned  to  his  table,  and  began  to  write  busily.  His  back 
was  turned  to  me,  and  seeing  a  newspaper  lying  in  the  ante 
chamber,  I  rose  and  went  to  procure  it. 

"  You  are  not  leaving  me,  Captain  ?  "  the  General  called  out, 
without  turning  round. 


LONGBOW'S^  HOUSE.  453 

"  Is  it  forbidden  to  go  into  the  ante -room,  General  ? " 

"  Not  at  all — you  can't  escape,  as  my  sentinel  is  too  good  a 
soldier  to  permit  an  officer  in  Confederate  uniform  to  pass  !  " 

And  he  went  on  writing. 

His  words  operated  upon  my  mind  like  a  challenge ;  and  at 
the  same  moment  my  eye  fell  upon  two  objects,  the  sight  of 
which  thrilled  through  every  nerve.  These  objects  were  simply  a 
light  linen  overall  lying  upon  a  chair,  and  on  a  table  the  tall 
blue  hat  of  the  Adjutant-General,  encircled  with  its  golden  cord. 
At  the  same  instant  a  shrill  neigh  attracted  my  attention  to  the 
grounds  without  ;  and  looking  through  the  window,  I  saw  an 
orderly  holding  a  magnificent  horse,  from  which  an  officer  had 
just  descended. 

In  one  instant  I  had  formed  an  audacious  resolution  ;  and  sit 
ting  down  at  a  table  upon  which  were  pen,  ink,  and  paper,  I 
wrote : 

"  Captain  Longbow  presents  his  compliments  to  General  Pat 
terson,  and  informs  him  that  he  is  about  to  make  an  attempt  to 
win  the  bet  just  made.  There  is  an  excellent  horse  now  at  the 
door,  which  has  only  to  be  secured  in  case  Captain  Longbow 
can  pass  the  sentinel — when  his  escape  will  not  be  difficult  in  spite 
of  the  pickets. 

"  Headquarters  of  General  Patterson,  July  4,  1861." 

I  had  just  placed  this  note  in  an  envelope,  and  directed  it  to 
"  Major-General  Patterson,  com'd'g,  etc,"  when  the  Adjutant- 
General  turned  his  head,  and  said  courteously : 

"  Are  you  writing  a  letter,  Captain  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  I  said. 

"  To  send  through  the  lines,  I  suppose.  If  you  give  me  your 
word  of  honour  that  it  contains  only  private  matter,  and  nothing 
contraband,  I  will  forward  it  unread  by  the  first  flag  of  truce." 

I  paused  a  moment,  and  then  made  up  my  mind. 

"  It  is  not  to  go  through  the  lines,"  I  said ;  "  it  is  addressed  to 
General  Patterson." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  the  officer. 

"  Yes,  sir.  It  refers  to  a  subject  upon  which  the  General  and 
riyself  were  conversing  when  we  were  interrupted.  I  do  not 


454  WEARING   OF  THE  GRAY. 

wish  to  trouble  him  further  at  present,  as  he  seems  busy  ;  but  if 
you  will  have  the  goodness  to  hand  it  to  him  this  evening  or  to 
morrow,  I  will  be  greatly  indebted  to  you." 

"  I  will  do  so  with  pleasure,  Captain,"  said  this  most  courteous 
of  enemies;  and  taking  the  note,  he  placed  it  in  one  of  the  pigeon 
holes  of  his  desk. 

At  the  same  moment  the  officer  who  had  dismounted  from  the 
fine  horse  was  introduced,  and  soon  afterwards  my  pulse  leaped. 
The  voice  of  General  Patterson  was  heard  calling  his  Adjutant- 
General  ;  and  that  officer  hastened  to  the  inner  room,  closing  the 
door  after  him. 


III. 

^ 

I  did  not  lose  an  instant.  Seizing  the  light  linen  overall,  I  put 
it  on  and  buttoned  it  up  to  the  chin,  as  though  to  guard  my 
uniform  from  the  dust ;  and  throwing  my  brown  felt  hat  under 
the  table,  placed  upon  my  head  the  high-crowned  blue  one,  with 
its  golden  cord  and  tassel.  I  then  opened  the  outer  door ;  negli-. 
gently  returned  the  salute  of  the  sentinel,  who  came  to  a  "pre 
sent"  with  his  musket  at  sight  of  my  cord  and  tassel;  and 
walked  out  to  the  gate,  which  was  set  in  a  low  hedge,  above 
which  appeared  the  head  of  the  splendid  animal  I  had  deter 
mined  to  "  capture." 

Every  instant  now  counted.  My  ruse  might  at  any  moment 
be  discovered;  for  on  the  Adjutant-General's  return  to  his  room, 
he  must  observe  my  absence.  It  was  necessary  to  act  rapidly, 
and  with  decision. 

Strolling  with  a  careless  air  to  the  spot  where  the  orderly 
stood,  holding  his  own  and  the  officer's  bridle,  I  patted  the 
horse  on  the  neck,  and  said  : 

"  That  is  a  fine  animal." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  the  orderly,  touching  his  hat  to  the  Adjutant- 
GremraTs  hat ;  "  the  Colonel  paid  six  hundred  dollars  for  him 
only  last  week." 

u  Excellent  equipments,  too,"  and  I  raised  up  the  flap  of  one 
of  the  holsters,  which  contained  a  pair  of  silver-mounted  pistols. 


LONGBOW'S  HORSE.  455 

In  an  instant  I  had  drawn  one  of  the  weapons,  cocked  it,  and 
placed  it  at  the  orderly's  head. 

"  I  am  a  Confederate  prisoner,  determined  to  escape  or  die," 
I  said.  "  If  you  move  I  will  blow  your  brains  out.  Wait  until  I 
get  a  fair  start,  and  then  tell  your  Colonel  I  took  his  horse  by 
force!" 

With  one  bound  I  was  in  the  saddle,  and  turning  the  horse's 
head  to  the  fence  on  the  south  of  the  house,  cleared  it,  and  set 
out  at  full  speed  for  a  wood  near  by.  As  I  did  so,  I  saw  a  sud 
den  tumult,  and  crowds  running  about  at  the  house,  among 
whom  I  recognised  the  Adjutant-General. 

"  Good-by,  Major,"  I  called  out ;  "I  will  send  your  hat  and 
coat  by  flag  of  truce  !  " 

And  in  a  moment  I  had  gained  the  clump  of  woods,  and  was 
out  of  sight. 

My  captured  horse  was  an  animal  of  superb  action,  and  I  soon 
found  that  I  must  make  him  show  his  points.  As  I  looked 
over  my  shoulder,  I  saw  a  company  of  cavalry — evidently  the 
body-guard  of  the  General,  whose  horses  always  remained  sad 
dled — leave  the  town,  and  follow  furiously  upon  my  track. 

Between  these  and  the  pickets  which  would  certainly  bar  my 
passage,  I  seemed  to  stand  little  chance ;  but  it  was  worth  the 
trial,  and  I  went  on  at  full  speed,  keeping  as  much  as  possible 
in  the  woods.  Stopping  for  nothing  in  the  shape  of  a  fence,  I 
made  straight  across  the  country,  and  gradually  seemed  distanc 
ing  my  pursuers.  What  words,  however,  can  describe  my  mor 
tification  when,  issuing  from  a  dense  covert,  I  'found  they  had 
followed  by  a  parallel  road,  and  were  on  my  very  heels !  I 
heard  the  tramp  of  their  horses,  and  the  quick  shout  they  gave 
as  they  caught  sight  of  me. 

Then  commenced  on  the  narrow  wood  road  what  is  called  a 
"stern  chase"  at  sea.  It  was  a  question  of  the  speed  of  our 
horses;  but  I  found,  unfortunately,  that  my  pursuers  were  as 
well  mounted  as  myself.  They  were  steadily  gaining  on  me, 
when  I  ran  straight  into  a  regiment  of  infantry,  who  had  pitched 
their  small  tents  de  Tarbre,  under  the  trees.  The  quarter-guard, 
however,  made  no  effort  to  stop  me,  and  I  shot  past  the  camp, 


456  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

but    in   four  hundred  yards  came  in    sight    of   the    cavalry 
pickets. 

It  was  now  "  neck  or  nothing."  I  had  to  ride  through  or 
over  every  obstacle  in  my  way,  or  surrender.  The  picket  con 
sisted  of  about  a  company  of  cavalry,  every  man  standing  by  his 
horse ;  and  as  I  approached,  the  officer  came  out,  evidently  sup 
posing  that  I  brought  him  some  important  message. 

The  officer  staggered  back,  nearly  knocked  down  by  my 
horse ;  and  I  passed  on,  followed  by  a  quick  volley  which  did 
not  harm  me.  I  knew  now  that  if  once  I  could  pass  the  exter 
nal  pickets,  my  escape  would  be  certain  ;  and  all  at  once  I  came 
on  them.  The  picket  consisted  of  four  or  five  mounted  men  ;  an^d 
as  I  approached,  the  vidette  in  the  middle  of  the  road  ordered 
me  to  halt,  presenting  his  carbine.  I  drew  my  revolver  and 
fired,  and  at  the  same  moment  he  discharged  his  carbine,  but 
missed  me. 

I  do  not  know  whether  I  struck  him  or  not.  I  went  past 
him,  and  did  not  look  back  to  see.  Suddenly  the  whole  picket 
fired,  and  the  bullets  hissed  close  to  me ;  but  not  one  touched  me 
or  my  horse,  and  I  was  free !  In  ten  minutes  I  was  out  of  sight, 
and  in  five  minutes  more  saw  the  Confederate  pickets  in  front 
of  me. 

They  received  me  rather  roughly.  The  vidette  fired  on  me 
and  then  ran,  and  I  followed  him.  A  hundred  yards  further  I 
drove  in  the  whole  external  picket,  which  retired  firing. 

The  first  person  I  saw  near  the  "  Big  Spring  "  was  Colonel 
Stuart,  with  his  cavalry  drawn  up  in  line  of  battle.  As  soon  as 
he  recognised  me  he  burst  into  laughter,  and  cried :  "  Ho,  ho ! 
here's  Longbow  in  a  Yankee  uniform  !  " 

"Exactly,  Colonel." 

"  Where  are  you  from  ?  " 

"  Martinsburg— driving  in  your  pickets  on  the  way." 

"  No  wonder,"  laughed  Stuart.  "  Your  appearance  is  enough 
to  frighten  a  whole  brigade.  I  hope  my  pickets  fired  on  you 
before  they  ran." 

"  Furiously,  Colonel,  as  the  enemy  were  doing  behind." 

"  But  how  did  you  escape  ?     I  was  truly  sorry  to  hear  from 


LONGBOW'S  HORSE.  457 

Jackson  that  you  had  ridden  to  look  for  me,  and  never  turned 
up  afterwards." 

I  briefly  related  my  adventures,  and  offered  my  horse,  hat,  and 
pistols  in  proof.  Stuart  listened,  laughing  heartily,  and  when  I 
had  finished,  said  : 

u  So  all  that  firing  was  only  a  Fourth  of  July  salute  !  I  thought 
so,  but  never  take  anything  on  trust ;  so  I've  been  ready  all 
the  morning,  and  thought  when  the  picket  fired  that  you  were 
the  enemy." 

Soon  afterwards  I  parted  from  this  great  soldier ;  and  riding 
on,  found  Jackson  at  Darkesville,  to  whom  I  reported,  receiving 
his  congratulations  upon  my  escape. 

But  I  must  hasten  on  and  tell  you  about  my  horse. 


IV. 

A  few  days  afterwards  I  was  at  General  Johnston's  headquar 
ters,  and  ascertaining  that  he  was  about  to  send  a  flag  through 
the  lines,  thought  it  a  good  opportunity  to  return  the  Adjutant- 
General's  hat  and  coat.  I  therefore  rolled  up  these  articles,  and 
wrote  a  note  to  accompany  them,  thanking  the  Major  for  the  use 
of  them,  and  begging  him  to  excuse  the  little  liberty  I  had  taken 
in  appropriating  them. 

I  went  with  the  flag ;  and  when  the  business  of  the  interview 
was  transacted,  gave  the  hat,  coat,  and  note,  to  the  Federal  officer 
who  met  us,  and  who  was  a  gentleman  of  good-sense  and  breed 
ing.  He  laughed  when  I  explained  how  I  had  procured  the  ar 
ticles,  and  informed  me  that  he  had  already  heard  the  story. 

"  I  even  heard  there  was  a  bet  between  you  and  General  Pat 
terson,"  he  said.  "Is  that  the  fact,  Captain?  and  what  was  the 
amount?  " 

"  It  was  not  money,  but  a  horse  and  equipments,  which  the 
General  has  lost." 

"  Then  he  will  certainly  pay,  and  he  has  some  very  fine 
horses." 

'•  I  am  afraid  he  has  forgotten  me." 


458  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

"  On  the  contrary,  be  has  remembered  you,  Captain,"  said  the 
officer,  smiling ;  and  at  a  sign  from  him  a  mounted  man  led  for 
ward  a  beautiful  bay,  splendidly  equipped,  which  every  member 
of  the  party  had  been  looking  at  and  admiring. 

"  The  General  requested  rne  to  send  this  horse  to  you,  Cap 
tain,"  said  the  officer  ;  "  but  as  you  are  present,  I  deliver  him  in 
person.  He  is  a  splendid  animal,  and  I  only  hope  I  shall  soon 
have  the  pleasure  of  capturing  you,  and  getting  him  into  my 
own  possession." 

Everybody  began  to  laugh,  and  admire  my  horse.  I  mounted 
and  put  him  at  a  fence,  which  he  went  over  like  a  deer. 

"  Thank  the  General  for  me,  Major ;  his  horse  is  excellent,"  I 
said. 

"  I  will  do  so  with  pleasure  ;  this  is  really  the  poetry  of  war!" 

And  saluting  each  other,  the  two  parties  separated. 

I  have  thus  told  you  how  I  got  my  fine  blood  bay.  He  was 
a  magnificent  animal.  I  will  next  proceed  to  inform  you  how  I 
lost  him. 

Two  days  afterwards  I  was  riding  out  with  Colonel  Jackson, 
when  General  Johnston,  wholly  unattended,  met  him,  and  the 
two  officers  rode  on,  in  earnest  conversation,  pointing  as  they 
did  so  to  the  various  hills  and  knolls  which  afforded  good  posi 
tions  for  troops.  I  had  fallen  back  some  distance  to  allow  them 
to  converse  without  reserve,  when  all  at  once  I  saw  General 
Johnston  turn  and  look  at  me ;  then  Jackson  beckoned  to  me. 
I  rode  up  and  saluted  the  General,  who  gravely  returned  the 
bow,  and  said : 

"  Captain,  I  have  determined  to  send  you  to  Manassas  with  a 
dispatch  to  General  Beauregard,  which  I  wish  delivered  at  once. 
The  dispatch  will  be  ready  in  two  hours  from  this  time,  and  I 
would  like  to  have  you  set  off  at  once.  Can  you  do  so  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  I  replied;  "  this  moment,  if  necessary." 

"  Very  good  ;  ride  back  with  me  to  headquarters,  and  I  will 
give  you  a  message  also." 

I  followed  the  General  back  to  Darkesville,  waited  an  hour, 
and  then  was  sent  for,  and  received  the  dispatch  and  instruc 
tions.  On  the  same  night  I  set  out  on  my  bay  horse,  and  by 


LONGBOW'S  HORSE. 

morning  was  at  General  Beauregard's   headquarters,  and   had 
delivered  the  dispatch.     An  hour  afterwards  I  was  sound  asleep. 

I  was  waked  by  the  clatter  of  hoofs,  and  rising,  found  couriers 
going  and  coming. 

"  What  is  the  matter?  "  I  asked  of  an  orderly. 

"  The  Yankees  are  coming,"  he  replied,  "and  they  are  already 
near  Fairfax  Court-house." 

I  immediately  harried  to  General  Beau  regard,  and  found  him 
about  to  mount  and  ride  out  on  the  lines.  At  sight  of  me,  he 
exclaimed — 

"Good!  I  was  just  about  to  send  for  you,  Captain.  The 
enemy  are  upon  us,  and  I  wish  General  Johnston  to  know  that 
if  he  desires  to  help  me,  now  is  the  time.'* 

"  I  will  carry  the  message,  General/' 

"  Will  your  horse  hold  out?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Well,  tell  General  Johnston  the  condition  of  things  here.  A 
very  large  force  of  the  enemy  are  within  a  few  miles  of  me,  and 
are  still  advancing.  Say  to  the  General  simply  this — that  if  he 
wishes  to  help  me,  now  is  the  time." 

With  these  words  General  Beauregard  saluted  me,  and  rode  on. 
I  immediately  called  for  my  horse,  mounted,  and  set  off  at  a 
rapid  gallop  for  the  Valley. 

General  Patterson's  present  was  now  destined  to  be  subjected 
to  a  hard  trial.  I  had  already  ridden  him  nearly  fifty  miles 
within  the  last  twenty-four  hours,  and  was  about  to  pass  over  the 
very  same  ground  almost  without  allowing  him  any  rest. 

I  galloped  on  toward  Thoroughfare.  My  bay  moved  splen 
didly,  and  did  not  seem  at  all  fatigued.  He  was  moving  with 
head  up,  and  pulling  at  the  rein. 

"  Good  !  my  gallant  bay  !  "  I  said  ;  "  if  you  go  on  at  that  rate 
we'll  soon  be  there!" 

I  had  not  counted  on  the  heat  of  the  July  weather,  however;* 
and  when  T  got  near  Salem  my  bay  began  to  flag  a  little.  I 
pushed  him  with  the  spur,  and  hurried  on.  Near  Paris  he  began 
to  wheeze  ;  but  I  pushed  on,  using  the  spur  freely,  and  drove  him 
up  the  mountain  road,  and  along  the  gap  to  the  river.  This  we 


460  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

forded,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  terrible  heat  I  hurried  on  over 
the  turnpike. 

My  bay  had  begun  to  pant  and  stagger  at  times ;  but  there 
was  no  time  to  think  of  his  condition.  I  had  undertaken  to 
deliver  General  Beauregard's  message;  and  I  must  do  so,  on 
horseback  or  on  foot,  without  loss  of  time.  I  dug  the  spur  into 
my  panting  animal  and  rushed  on. 

At  Millwood  some  citizens  gathered  in  the  middle  of  the  street 
to  ask  the  news.  I  continued  the  gallop  without  stopping,  and 
in  an  hour  approached  Winchester,  where  Johnston  had  estab 
lished  his  general  headquarters. 

Beyond  the  Opequon  my  bay  staggered,  blood  rushed  from 
his  nostrils,  and  his  eyes  glared ;  as  I  neared  the  town  the  spur 
scarcely  raised  him  ;  from  his  chest  issued  a  hollow  groan. 

All  at  once  an  officer,  followed  by  some  couriers,  appeared  at 
a  turn  of  the  road,  and  I  recognised  General  Johnston. 

In  an  instant  I  was  at  his  side,  and  had  delivered  my  message. 

"Very  good!"  exclaimed  the  General;  "and  I  am  greatly 
obliged  by  your  promptness ;  but  look  at  your  horse,  Captain — 
he  is  dying !  " 

At  the  same  instant  my  bay  fell,  and  rolled  over. 

"  You  are  wrong,  General,"  I  said,  as  I  sprang  up ;  "  he  is 
dead  ! " 

In  fact  he  was  then  gasping  in  the  death  agony,  and  in  ten 
minutes  he  was  dead. 

"  Pity  you  should  lose  so  fine  an  animal,  Captain,"  said  the 
General. 

"  Easy  come,  easy  go,  General.  I  got  him  from  General  Pat 
terson — I  believe  Colonel  Jackson  told  you  how." 

"  Ah !  that  is  the  horse  ?     Well,  sir,  I  will  give  you  one  of  my 
own  in  place  of  him,  for  he  has  enabled  you  to  bring  me  informa 
tion,  upon  the  receipt  of  which  the  result  of  the  battle  at  Ma- 
'  nassas  depended." 

"  I  wonder  if  General  Patterson  contemplated  such  a  thing, 
General,  when  he  sent  me  the  horse." 

"Doubtful!"  replied  Johnston,  with  his  calm,  grim  smile; 
and  saluting  me,  he  rode  away  mpidly. 


461 

Six  hours  afterwards  his  army  was  in  motion  for  Manassas, 
where  the  advance  arrived  on  the  night  of  the  20th  of  July. 
On  the  next  day  Jackson's  brigade  held  the  enemy  in  check,  and 
Kirby  Smith  ended  the  fight  by  his  assault  upon  their  right. 
Jackson  and  Smith  betonged  to  the  Army  of  the  Shenandoah, 
and  this  will  show  you  that  without  that  army  the  battle  would 
have  been  lost. 

/  brought  that  army,  my  dear  friend,  by  means  of  General 
Patterson's  bay  horse ! 

Such  was  the  narrative  of  Captain  Longbow,  and  I  would  like 
to  know  how  much  of  it  is  true.  The  incident  of  the  hard  ride, 
and  the  death  of  the  Captain's  horse  especially,  puzzles  me. 
That  incident  is  veracious,  as  I '  have  once  before  said ;  but  a 
serious  question  arises  as  to  whether  Longbow  bore  that  mes 
sage  !  I  have  a  dim  recollection  that  my  friend  Colonel  Surry 
told  me  once  that  he  had  been  sent  to  Beauregard ;  had  killed  his 
horse ;  and  the  high  character  of  the  Colonel  renders  it  impossi 
ble  to  doubt  any  statement  which  he  makes.  I  expect  him  on 
a  visit  soon,  as  he  intends  to  make  a  little  scout,  he  tells  me,  to 
Fauquier  to  see  a  young  lady — a  Miss  Beverley — there,  and 
doubtless  will  call  by ;  then  I  shall  ask  him  what  are  the  real 
facts  of  this  affair.  x 

Meanwhile  my  friend  Longbow  is  entitled  to  be  heard  ;  and  I 
have  even  taken  the  trouble  to  set  down  his  narrative  for  the 
amusement  of  the  friend  to  whom  it  will  be  sent.  If  Colonel 
Surry  ever  composes  his  memoirs,  as  I  believe  is  his  intention, 
the  real  truth  on  this  important  point  will  be  recorded.  Until 
then —  Vive  Longbow  ! 


XII. 
ROSLYN  AND  THE  WHITE  HOUSE 


"  Quantum  mutatus  ab  illo  !  "  That  is  an  exclamation  which 
rises  to  the  lips  of  many  persons  on  many  occasions  in  time  of 
war. 

In  1860,  there  stood  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Chickahominy, 
in  the  county  of  New  Kent,  an  honest  old  mansion,  with  which 
the  writer  of  this  page  was  intimately  acquainted.  Houses 
take  the  character  of  those  who  build  them,  and  this  one  was 
Virginian,  and  un-u  citified.''  In  place  of  flues  to  warm  the 
apartments,  there  were  big  fires  of  logs.  In  place  of  gas  to 
light  the  nights,  candles,  or  the  old-fashioned  "  astral "  lamps. 
On  the  white  walls  there  were  no  highly  coloured  landscape 
paintings,  but  a  number  of  family  portraits.  There  was  about 
the  old  mansion  a  cheerful  and  attractive  air  of  home  and  wel 
come,  and  in  the  great  fireplaces  had  crackled  the  yule  clogs 
of  many  merry  Christmases.  The  stables  were  large  enough 
to  accommodate  the  horses  of  half  a  hundred  guests.  The  old 
garden  contained  a  mint  patch  which  had  supplied  that  plant 
for  the  morning  juleps  of  many  generations.  Here  a  number 
of  worthy  old  planters  had  evidently  lived  their  lives,  arid  passed 
away,  never  dreaming  that  the  torch  of  war  would  flame  in  their 
borders. 

The  drawing-room  was  the  most  cheerful  of  apartments ;  and 
the  walls  were  nearly  covered  with  portraits.  From  the  bright 
or  faded  canvas  looked  down  beautiful  dames,  with  waists  just 
beneath  their  arms,  great  piles  of  curls,  and  long  lace  veils  ;  and 


EOSLYN  AND  THE  WHITE   HOUSE.  463 

fronting  these  were  gentlemen  with  queer  blue  coats,  brass  but 
tons,  snowy  ruffles,  hair  brushed  back,  and  English  side- whis 
kers.  The  child  in  the  oval  frame  above  the  mantel-piece — 
with  the  golden  curls,  and  the  little  hand  on  the  head  of  her 
pet  dog — could  look  at  her  father  and  mother,  grandfather, 
grandmother,  and  great-grandmother,  almost  without  turning 
her  head.  Four  generations  looked  down  from  the  walls  of  the 
old  mansion ;  about  it  was  an  indefinable  but  pervading  air 
of  home. 

Of  the  happy  faces  which  lit  up  -this  honest  old  mansion 
when  I  saw  it  first,  I  need  not  speak.  Let  me  give  a  few  words, 
however,  to  a  young  man  who  was  often  there — one  of  my 
friends.  He  was  then  in  the  bloom  of  youth,  and  enjoyed  the 
spring-daj^s  of  his  life.  Under  the  tall  old  trees,  in  the  bright 
parlour  full  of  sunshine,  or  beneath  the  shadow  of  the  pine-wood 
near,  he  mused,  and  dreamed,  and  passed  the  idle  hours  of  his 
u  early  prime."  He  was  there  at  Roslyn  in  the  sweetest  sea 
son  of  the  year;  in  spring,  when  the  grass  was  green,  and  the 
peach-blossom  red,  and  the  bloom  of  the  apple-tree  as  white  as 
the  driven  snow;  in  summer,  "  when  the  days  were  long"  and 
all  the  sky  a  magical  domain  of  piled-up  clouds  upon  a  sea  of 
blue  ;  and  in  the  autumn,  when  the  airs  were  dreamy  and  mem 
orial — the  woods  a  spectacle  from  faery -land,  with  their  purple, 
gold,  and  orange,  fading  slow.  Amid  these  old  familiar  scenes, 
the  youth  I  write  of  wandered  and  enjoyed  himself.  "War 
had  not  come  with  its  harsh  experiences  and  hard  realities — 
its  sobs  and  sighs,  its  anxieties  and  hatreds — its  desolated  homes, 
and  vacant  chairs,  and  broken  hearts.  Peace  and  youth  made 
every  object  bright;  and  wandering  beneath  the  pines,  dream 
ing  his  dreams,  the  young  man  passed  many  sunny  hours,  and 
passed  them,  I  think,  rationally.  His  reveries  brought  him  no 
money,  but  they  were  innocent.  He  had  "  never  a  penny  to 
spare,"  but  was  rich  in  fancy  ;  few  sublunary  funds,  but  a  heavy 
balance  to  his  credit  in  the  Bank  of  Cloudland ;  no  house  to 
call  his  own,  but  a  number  of  fine  chateaux,  where  he  entered 
as  a  welcome  guest,  nay,  as  their  lord  !  Those  brave  chateaux 
stood  in  a  country  unsurpassed,  and  those  who  have  lived  there 


464  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

say  no  air  is  purer,  no  sky  more  bright.  War  does  not  come 
there,  nor  the  hum  of  trade  ;  grief  and  care  fly  away  ;  sorrow 
is  unknown  ;  the  doors  of  these  old  chateaux  are  closed  against 
all  that  carries  that  most  terrible  of  maladies,  the  Heartache. 

They  were  Chateaux  en  Espagne,  you  will  say,  good  reader ; 
and  truly  they  were  built  in  that  fine  land.  Do  you  know  a 
better?  I  do  not. 

Many  years  have  passed  since  the  youth  I  speak  of  wan 
dered  amid  these  happy  scenes ;  but  I  know  that  the  dead 
years  rise  like  phantoms  often  before  his  eyes,  and  hover 
vague  and  fitful  above  the  waves  of  that  oblivion  which  can 
not  submerge  them.  While  memory  lives  they  will  be  traced 
upon  her  tablets,  deeper  and  more  durable  than  records  cut 
on  "  monumental  alabaster."  The  rose,  the  violet,  and  the 
hyacinth  have  passed,  but  their  magical  odour'is  still  floating 
in  the  air — not  a  tint  of  the  sky,  a  murmur  of  the  pines,  or  a 
song  of  the  birds  heard  long  ago,  but  lives  for  ever  in  his 
memory ! 

But  I  wander  from  my  subject,  which  is  Koslyn  "  before 
and  after."  The  reader  has  had  a  glimpse  of  the  old  house  as 
it  appeared  in  the  past ;  where  is  it,  and  what  is  it  now? 

That  question  will  be  best  answered  by  a  description  of  my 
last  visit  to  the  well-known  locality.  It  was  a  day  or  two 
after  the  battle  of  Cold  Harbour,  and  I  was  going  with  a 
few  companions  toward  the  White  House,  whither  the  cav 
alry  had  preceded  us.  I  thought  I  knew  the  road  ;•  I  was  sure 
of  being  upon  it;  but  I  did  not,  recognise  a  single  locality. 
War  had  reversed  the  whole  physiognomy  of  the  country. 
The  traces  of  huge  camps  were  visible  on  the  once  smiling 
fields ;  the  pretty  winding  road,  once  so  smooth,  was  all  fur 
rowed  into  ruts  and  mud-holes ;  the  trees  were  hewn  down  ; 
the  wayside  houses  dismantled  ;  the  hot  breath  of  war  vhad 
passed  over  the  smiling  land  and  blasted  it,  effacing  all  its 
beauty.  With  that  beauty,  every  landmark  had  also  disap 
peared.  I  travelled  over  the  worn-out  road,  my  horse  stum 
bling  and  plunging.  Never  had  I  before  visited,!  could  have 
made  oath,  this  portion  of  Virginia  ! 


ROSLYN  AND  THE   WHITE   HOUSE.  465 

All  at  once  we  came — I  and  the  "  merry  comrades "  who 
accompanied  me — in  sight  of  a  great  waste,  desolate-looking 
field,  of  a  clump  of  towering  trees,  and  a  mansion  which  the 
retreating  enemy  had  just  burned  to  the  ground.  There  were 
no  fences  around  this  field  ;  the  roads  were  obliterated,  deep 
ruts  marking  where  army  wagons  had  chosen  the  more  level 
ground  of  the  meadow,  or  had  "  doubled  "  in  retiring ;  no 
landmarks  were  distinguishable.  I  recognised  nothing — and 
yet  something  familiar  in  the  appearance  of  the  landscape 
struck  me,  and  all  at  once  the  thought  flashed  on  me,  "  I  know 
this  place  !  I  know  those  peach-trees  by  the  garden-fence ! 
the  lawn,  the  stables,  the  great  elms ! — this  is  Roslyn  !  " 

It  was  truly  Roslyn,  or  rather  the  ghost  of  it.  "What  a  spec 
tacle  !  The  fair  fields  were  trodden  to  a  quagmire ;  the  fences 
had  been  swept  away  ;  of  the  good  old  mansion,  once  the 
abode  of  joy  and  laughter,  of  home  comfort  and  hospitality, 
there  remained  only  a  pile  of  smoking  bricks,  and  two  lugu 
brious,  melancholy  chimneys  which  towered  aloft  like  phan 
toms  ! 

I  heard  afterwards  the  house's  history.  First,  it  had  been 
taken  as  the  headquarters  of  one  of  the  Federal  generals;  then 
it  was  used  as  a  hospital.  Why  it  was  burned  I  know  not ; 
whether  to  destroy,  in  accordance  with  McClellan's  order,  all 
medical  and  other  stores  which  could  not  be  removed,  or  from 
wanton  barbarity,  it  is  impossible  to  say.  I  only  know  that  it 
was  entirely  destroyed,  and  that  when  I  arrived,  the  old  spot 
was  the  picture  of  desolation.  Some  hospital  tents  still  stood 
in  the  yard  with  their  comfortable  beds ;  and  many  articles  of 
value  were  scattered  about — among  others,  an  exquisitely 
mounted  pistol,  all  silver  and  gilding,  which  a  boy  had  picked 
up  and  wished  me  to  purchase.  I  did  not  look  at  him,  and 
scarcely  saw  the  idle  loungers  of  the  vicinity  who  strolled  about 
with  apathetic  faces.  It  was  the  past  and  present  of  Roslyn 
that  occupied  my  mind — the  recollection  of  the  bright  scenes 
of  other  years,  set  suddenly  and  brutally  against  this  dark  pic 
ture  of  ruin.  There  were  the  tall  old  trees,  under  which  I  used 
to  wander ;  there  was  the  wicker  seat  where  I  passed  so  many 

30 


466  WEARING    OF  THE    GRAY. 

tranquil  hours  of  reverie  in  the  long,  still  afternoons,  when 
the  sun  sank  slowly  to  the  western  woods  ;  there  was  the  sandy 
road  ;  the  dim  old  pine-wood ;  the  flower-garden— every  object 
which  surrounded  me  in  the  glad  hours  of  youth— but  Koslyn 
itself,  the  sunny  old  mansion,  where  the  weeks  and  months  had 
passed  so  joyously,  where  was  Koslyn?  That  smouldering 
heap  of  debris,  and  those  towering,  ghost-like  chimneys,  re 
plied.  From  the  shattered  elms,  and  the  trodden  flowers,  the 
genius  of  the  place  seemed  to  look  out,  sombre  and  hopeless. 
From  the  pine-trees  reaching  out  yearning  arms  toward  the 
ruin,  seemed  to  come  a  murmur,  u  Koslyn  !  Roslyn  !  " 

In  war  you  have  little  time  for  musing.  Duty  calls,  andjhe 
blast  of  the  bugle  jars  upon  the  reveries  of  the  dreamer,  sum 
moning  him  again  to  action.  I  had  no  time  to  dream  over 
the  faded  glories,  the  dead  splendour  of  Koslyn  ;  those  "  merry 
comrades  "  whereof  I  spoke  called  to  me,  as  did  the  friends  of 
the  melancholy  hero  visitor  to  Locksley  Hall,  and  I  was  soon 
en  route  again  for  the  White  House. 

This  was  McClellan's  great  depot  of  stores  on  the  Painunkey, 
which  he  had  abandoned  when  deciding  upon  the  James  river 
line  of  retreat — "  change  of  base. "  if  you  prefer  the  phrase, 
reader — and  to  the  White  House  General  Stuart  had  hurried 
to  prevent  if  possible  the  destruction  of  the  stores.  He  was  too 
late.  The  officer  in  charge  of  the  great  depot  had  applied  the 
torch  to  all,  and  retreated  ;  and  when  the  cavalry  arrived, 
nothing  was  visible  but  a  black-hulled  gunboat  which  slunk 
away  down  the  stream,  chased  by  the  shots  of  the  Horse  Ar 
tillery  under  Pelham.  Behind  them  they  left  fire  and  de 
struction  ;  a  scene  in  which  a  species  of  barbaric  and  disgust 
ing  splendour  seemed  to  culminate. 

Strange  moment  for  my  first  visit  to  the  White  House !  to  a 
spot  which  I  had  seen  often  in  fancy,  but  never  before  with  the 
mortal  eye.  For  this  place  was  one  of  those  historic  localities 
where  the  forms  and  voices  of  the  "  mighty  men  of  old  "  ap 
peared  still  to  linger.  Here  young  Colonel  Washington,  after 
that  bloody  march  of  Braddock,  had  paused  on  his  journey  to 
Williamsburg  to  accept  the  hospitalities  of  John  Parke  Custis. 


ROSLYN  AND  THE   WHITE   HOUSE.  467 

Here  he  had  spent  hour  after  hour  conversing  with  the  fair 
young  widow  who  was  to  become  Mrs.  Washington,  while  his 
astonished  body-servant  held  the  bridle  for  him  to  mount ;  here 
he  had  been  married ;  here  were  spent  many  happy  days  of  a 
great  life — a  century  at  least  before  the  spot  saluted  my  gaze  ! 

In  this  old  locality  some  of  the  noblest  and  fairest  forms  that 
eye  ever  beheld  had  lived  their  lives  in  the  dead  years.  Here 
gay  voices  had  echoed,  bright  eyes  had  shone ;  here  a  sort  of 
masquerade  of  ruffles  and  silk  stockings,  furbelows  and  flounces, 
and  lace  and  embroidery,  and  powder  and  diamonds,  was 
played  still  in  the  eyes  of  fancy  !  The  White  House  had  been 
to  the  present  writer  an  honest  old  Virginia  mansion  of  colo 
nial  days,  full  of  warm  hearts,  and  kindness  and  hospitality, 
where  bright  eyes  outshone  "  the  gloss  of  satin  and  glimmer  of 
pearls ;"  where  the  winding  river  flowed  amid  blooming  fields, 
beneath  lofty  trees,  and  the  suns  of  earlier  years  shone  down  on 
Washington  and  his  bride. 

Again,  as  at  the  White  House — quantum  mutatus  db  illo  ! 

Let  me  outline  the  objects  that  met  my  view  as  I  galloped 
up  the  avenue,  between  the  great  trees  which  had  seen  pass 
beneath  them  the  chariots  of  other  generations.  The  house,  like 
Roslyn,  was  a  ruin  still  smouldering.  No  traces  of  it  were 
left  but  overthrown  walls,  bricks  calcined  and  shattered,  and 
charred  timbers  still  sending  up  lurid  smoke.  The  grounds 
were  the  picture  of  desolation  ;  the  flower-beds,  once  carefully 
tended  by  fair  hands,  had  been  trampled  beneath  the  feet  of 
Federal  soldiery ;  the  trees  were  twisted  or  champed  by  the 
cavalry  horses  ;  and  the  fences  had  been  long  since  torn  up  and 
burned.  The  mansion  was  gone ;  it  had  passed  like  a  dream 
away.  The  earth  upon  which  the  feet  of  Washington  had  trod 
den  so  often  was  a  waste ;  the  house  which  stood  upon  the  site 
of  that  former  one  in  which  he  was  married,  had  been  swept 
away  by  the  hot  breath  of  war. 

On  each  side  of  the  avenue  were  the  beds  of  an  extensive 
field  hospital.  The  enemy  had  carried  off*  the  large  "  hospital 
tents ;"  but  the  long  rows  of  excellent  beds,  carefully  protected 
from  the  damp  of  the  earth  by  plank  floors,  had  not  been  re- 


468  WEARING   OF  THE    GRAY. 

moved.  Here  were  the  general  headquarters  of  disease ;  the 
camp  of  the  sick,  the  dying,  and  the  dead.  The  arrange 
ments  were  admirable.  The  alleys  between  the  tents  were 
wide  ;  the  bed#of  the  best  quality,  with  ornamental  coverlids, 
brought  probably  by  friends ;  and  everywhere  lay  about,  in 
admired  disorder,  books,  pamphlets,  magazines,  journals,  with 
which  the  sick  had  doubtless  wiled  away  the  tedious  hours. 
Many  Bibles  and  Testaments  were  lying  on  the  ground ;  and 
Harper's  "  Monthly  "  and  "  Weekly  "  were  seen  in  great  num 
bers,  their  open  pages  exhibiting  terrific  engravings  of  the 
destruction  of  rebels,  and  the  triumph  of  their  "  faction." 
Here  were  newspapers  fixing  exactly  the  date  of  GeneVal 
McClellan's  entrance  into  Richmond ;  with  leading  editorials 
so  horrible  in  their  threatenings,  that  the  writers  must  have 
composed  them  in  the  most  comfortable  sanctums,  far  away 
from  the  brutal  and  disturbing  clash  of  arms.  For  the  rest, 
there  was  a  chaos  of  vials,  medicines,  boxes,  half-burnt  lemons  ; 
and  hundreds  of  empty  bottles,  bearing  the  labels,  "Chateau 
Margot,"  "  Lafitte,"  "  Clicquot,"  "  Bordeaux,"  and  many 
others — the  very  sight  of  which  spolia  of  M.  S.  nearly  drove 
the  hungry  and  thirsty  Confederates  to  madness ! 

It  was  a  sombre  and  frightful  spot.  Infection  and  contagion 
seemed  to  dwell  there — for  who  could  tell  what  diseases  had 
afflicted  the  occupants  of  these  beds  ?  ~No  article  was  touched 
by  the  troops ;  fine  coloured  blankets,  variegated  shirts,  orna 
mental  caps,  and  handkerchiefs,  and  shawls,  remained  undis 
turbed.  One  object,  however,  tempted  me;  and,  dismounting, 
I  picked  it  up.  It  was  a  little  black  lace  veil,  lying  upon  one 
of  the  beds,  and  evidently  had  belonged  to  a  woman.  I  looked 
at  it,  musing,  and  asking  myself  whether  it  had  belonged  to 
wife,  sister,  or  daughter — and  I  pitied  her.  This  girl  or 
woman,  I  thought,  had  probably  no  hatred  in  her  heart 
toward  us ;  if  she  had  been  consulted,  there  would  have  been 
no  war ;  her  child,  or  her  husband,  or  her  brother,  would  have 
stayed  at  home  with  her,  leaving  his  "  Southern  brethren  "  in 
peace.  Women  are  best  after  all ;  and,  doubtless,  they  of  the 
North  would  even  yet  end  this  "  cruel  war"  if  they  could ; 


KOSLYN  AND   THE  WHITE   HOUSE.  469 

would  shatter  the  sword,  break  the  musket  to  pieces,  and  sink 
the  rifled  cannon  a  thousand  fathoms  deep  in  the  waters  of  the 
Atlantic !  If  the  women  of  the  North  could  have  their  way, 
I  think  they  would  call  to  those  who  remain  alive  to  return  to 
them, — would  heal  their  broken  hearts,  and  joyfully  bid  the 
"  erring  sisters  "  go  in  peace — furling  the  battle-flag  for  ever. 
This  daughter,  or  sister,  or  wife,  may  have  been  one  of  these 
angels  ;  perhaps  she  did  not  see  that  she  had  dropped  her  lace 
veil — she  was  crying,  poor  thing  !..... 

A  curious  subject  for  reverie — a  lace  veil  picked  up  in  an 
enemy's  camp  ;  but  such  are  the  vagaries  of  the  human  mind. 
It  seemed  strange  to  me  there, — that  delicate  woman's  veil, 
in  the  Plague  City,  on  the  hot  arena  of  war. 

Passing  the  hospital  and  the  ruined  mansion,  I  hastened  to 
the  locality  of  the  camp  ;  and  here  the  whole  wild  scene  burst 
on  the  eye.  I  cannot  describe  it.  Stench,  glare,  insufferable 
heat,  and  dense,  foul,  lurid  smoke — there  was  the  "  general 
impression."  A  city  had  been  laid  out  here,  and  this  was  now 
in  flames.  Jews,  pedlers,  hucksters,  and  army  followers  of 
every  description,  had  thronged  here ;  had  worked  like  beavers, 
hammering  up  long  rows  of  "  shanties  "  and  sutlers'  shops  ;  had 
covered  the  plain  with  a  cloud  of  tents ;  and  every  steamer 
from  New  York  had  brought  something  to  spread  upon  the 
improvised  counters  of  the  rising  city.  Moses  and  Levi  and 
Abraham  had  rushed  in  with  their  highly  superior  stock  of 
goods,  going  off  at  an  enormous  sacrifice  ;  Jonathan  and  Slick 
had  supplied  the  best  quality  of  wooden  hams  and  nutmegs ; 
Dauerflinger  and  Sauerkraut  had  brought  the  best  malt  liquors 
and  lager,  with  brandy  and  whiskey  and  gin  under  the  rose. 
In  a  few  wreeks  a  metropolis  of  sutlerdom  had  thus  sprung  up 
like  a  mushroom ;  and  a  whole  host  of  pedlers  and  hucksters 
had  scratched  and  burrowed,  and  made  themselves  nests  like 
Norway  rats ; — the  very  place  smelled  of  them. 

The  rats  had  thus  gone  far  in  building  their  capital  of  Rat- 
dom ;  but  those  cruel  terriers,  the  Confederates,  had  discovered 
them,  given  chase,  and  scattered  them  to  the  four  winds,  to 
return  no  more !  Their  own  friends  struck  them  the  heaviest 


470  WEARING    OF  THE    GRAY. 

blow.  The  officer  commanding  at  the  White  House  had 
promptly  obeyed  the  orders  sent  him,  and  the  nascent  city  was 
set  fire  to  without  mercy.  When  the  Confederates  arrived,  the 
long  rows  of  sutlers'  stores,  the  sheds  on  the  wharf,  the  great 
piles  of  army-stores,  the  surplus  guns,  pistols,  sabres,  and  the 
engines  on  the  railroad,  were  wrapt  in  roaring  flames.  From 
this  great  pile  of  fire  rose  a  black  and  suffocating  smoke,  drift 
ing  far  away  acro^  the  smiling  landscape  of  June.  Destruc 
tion,  like  some  Spirit  of  Evil,  sat  enthroned  on  the  spot,  and 
his  red  bloodshot  eye  seemed  to  glare  through  the  lurid  cloud. 
The  heat  was  frightful,  but  I  rode  on  into  the  midst  of  the 
disgusting  or  comic  scenes — advancing  over  the  ashes  of  the 
main  bulk  of  the  stores  which  had  been  burned  before  our 
arrival.  In  this  great  chaos  were  the  remnants  of  all  imagin 
able  things  which  a  great  army  needs  for  its  comfort  or  luxury 
in  the  field.  Barrels  of  pork  and  flour  ;  huge  masses  of  fresh 
beef;  boxes  of  hard  bread  and  cakes  ;  hogsheads  of  sugar  and 
molasses  ;  bags  of  ^coffee  and  beans,  and  all  conceivable  "  army 
stores  " — had  been  piled  up  here  in  a  great  mass  nearly  a  quar 
ter  of  a  mile  long,  and  set  on  fire  in  many  places.  The  remains 
of  the  stores  were  still  burning,  and  emitted  a  most  disgusting 
odour ;  next  came  the  row  of  sutlers'  shops,  among  which  the 
advance  guard  of  the  cavalry  had  scattered  themselves  in 
search  of  edibles.  These  were  found  in  profusion,  from  barrels 
of  excellent  hams,  and  crackers  and  cakes,  to  the  luxuries  so 
costly  in  the  Confederate  capital,  of  candy  and  comfits,  lemons 
and  oranges,  bottles  of  Jamaica  ginger,  and  preserved  fruits. 
There  was  no  little  interest  in  a  walk  through  that  debris  of 
sutlerdom.  You  knocked  in  the  head  of  a  barrel,  entirely 
ignorant  whether  hard  bread  or  candy,  pork  or  preserved 
strawberries,  would  greet  your  curiojts  eyes.  The  box  which 
you  dashed  to  pieces  with  an  axe  might  contain  fine  shoes  and 
elastic  socks,  or  excellent  combs  and  hair-brushes,  or  snowy 
shirt  bosoms  and  delicate  paper  collars,  penknives,  pickles, 
portmonnaies,  or  perfumes.  All  these  things  were  found,  of  the 
last  New  York  fashion,  abandoned  by  the  sutler  rats,  no  doubt 
with  inexpressible  anguish.  The  men  helped  themselves  freely 


KOSLYN  AND  THE  WHITE   HOUSE.  471 

to  everything  which  they  took  a  fancy  to,  and  revelled  for  tha't 
day  in  a  plenty  which  repaid  them  for  all  their  hard 
ships. 

One  amusing  example  of  the  wholesale  destruction  was  fur 
nished  by  the  barrels  of  fresh  eggs  set  on  fire.  But  they  were 
only  half  burned.  The  salt  in  which  they  had  been  packed 
resisted  the  fire  ;  and  the  result  was  that  the  eggs  were  only 
roasted.  They  could  not  have  been  prepared  more  excellently 
for  the  visitors ;  and  every  taste  was  gratified.  Some  were 
charred  and  roasted  hard,  others  less  than  the  first,  others 
again  were  only  heated  through.  You  could  take  your  choice 
without  difficulty ;  nothing  more  was  necessary  than  to  take 
them  from  their  beds  of  salt ;  and  a  pinch  of  that  salt,  which 
was  excellent,  made  them  palatable.  Crackers  were  at  hand  ; 
jars  of  preserved  fruits  of  all  descriptions.  There  were  straw 
berries  and  figs  and  dates  for  dessert ;  and  whole  boxes  of  to 
bacco,  if  you  wished  to  smoke  after  your  meal.  The  greatest 
luxury  of  all  was  iced  lemonade.  The  day  was  terribly  hot, 
and  the  men,  like  their  horses,  were  panting  with  the  com 
bined  heat  of  the  weather  and  the  great  conflagration.  Under 
such  circumstances,  the  reader  may  understand  that  it  was  far 
from  unpleasant  to  discover  a  cool  spring  beneath  the  bank  ; 
to  take  water  and  ice  and  lemons  and  Jamaica  ginger,  and 
make  a  drink  for  the  gods  ! 

Of  this  pandemonium  of  strange  sights  and  sounds  and 
smells — of  comic  or  tragic,  amusing  or  disgusting  details — I 
shall  mention  but  one  other  object ;  one,  however,  which 
excited  in  me,  I  remember,  at  the  time  a  very  curious  interest 
This  was  a  tent  filled  with  coffins,  and  a  dead  body  ready 
embalmed  for  transportation  to  the  North.  In  front  of  the 
tent  stood  an  oblong  pine  box,  and  in  this  box  was  a  coffin,  so 
richly  ornamented  that  it  attracted  the  attention  of  all  who 
approached.  It  was  apparently  of  rosewood,  with  massive  sil 
ver  handles,  curiously  carved  or  moulded,  and  the  interior  was 
lined  with  rich  white  satin,  with  a  fringed  pillow,  covered  with 
the  same  material  to  sustain  the  head  of  the  corpse.  Above 
the  tents  occupied  by  this  mortuary  artist,  was  a  long  strip  of 


472  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

canvas  stretched  between  two  upright  poles,  and  this  bore  the 
inscription  in  large  black  letters  : 

"  EMBALMING  THE  DEAD  ! 
NEW  AMERICAN  PROCESS.  * 

BY  ORDER  OF  THE  SECRETARY  OF  WAR." 

This  strange  locality,  as  I  and  my  comrades  approached  it, 
"gave  us  pause."  All  these  paraphernalia  of  this  grave 
struck  us  with  profound  astonishment,  and  the  force  of  novelty. 
Our  poor  Confederate  dead  we  buried  in  pine  boxes,  or  in  none  ; 
often  a  long  trench  received  them,  wrapped  only  in  thejr 
old  tattered  uniforms  or  threadbare  blankets ;  and  lo !  here 
was  quite  another  mode  of  preparing  men  for  their  last  rest ; 
quite  a  superiour  conveyance  for  them,  in  which  they  might 
make  their  journey  to  the  other  world  !  That  rich  and  glossy 
rosewood  ;  that  soft-fringed  pillow ;  those  silver  handles,  and 
the  opening  in  the  lid,  where  through  fine  plate-glass  the  face 
of  the  corpse  might  be  seen  ! — strange  flattery  of  the  dead — 
the  dead  who  was  no  longer  to  crumble  to  dust,  and  go  the  way 
of  humanity,  but  was  to  be  embalmed  by  the  new  American 
process,  in  accordance  with  the  "order"  of  the  Secretary  of 
War!  In  the  streets  of  a  city  that  spectacle  would,  no  doubt, 
have  appeared  quite  commonplace  and  unsuggestive  ;  but  here, 
amid  the  insufferable  heat,  the  strangling  smoke,  and  the  horri 
ble  stench,  that  dead  body,  the  coffin,  and  the  embalmers' 
whole  surroundings,  had  in  them  I  know  not  what  of  the  re 
pulsive  and  disgusting.  Here  the  hideous  scene  had  reached 
its  climax — Death  reigned  by  the  side  of  Destruction. 

Such  was  the  scene  at  the  White  House  on  that  June  day 
of  1862  ;  in  this  black  cloud  went  down  the  star  of  the  enemy's 
greatest  soldier,  McClellan.  A  great  triumph  for  the  Confed 
erates  followed  that  furious  clash  of  arms  on  the  Chickahominy  ; 
but  alas  !  when  the  smoke  rolled  away,  the  whole  extent  of  the 
waste  and  desolation  which  had  come  upon  the  land  was  re 
vealed  ;  where  peace,  and  joy,  and  plenty  had  once  been,  all 
was  now  ruin.  The  enemy  were  lighted  on  their  way,  as  they 


ROSLYN   AND   THE   WHITE   HOUSE.  473 

retreated  through  the  marshes  of  Charles  City,  by  the  burning 
houses  to  which  they  had  applied  the  torch. 

Of  two  of  these  houses  I  have  spoken,  because  they  chanced 
to  attract  my  attention  ;  and  I  have  tried  to  convey  the  emo 
tions  which  the  spectacle  excited.  It  was  useless  and  barbarous 
to  burn  these  private  dwelling-houses  ;  the  wanton  indulgence 
of  spite  and  hatred  on  the  part  of  a  defeated  enemy,  who  de 
stroys  in  order  to  destroy .  But  let  that  pass. 

Since  that  time  I  have  never  revisited  Roslyn  or  the  White 
House. 


XIII. 

ON  THE  WING. 


THE  days  of  "  Camp  I^"o-Cainp"  are  numbered.  The  cannon 
begin  to  move — the  bugle  calls — the  hours  of  idleness  and 
u  outlines  "  are  a  thing  of  the  past. 

Whither  will  the  winds  of  war  now  waft  us  ?  That  is  a  hard 
question  to  reply  to ;  for  a  marked  peculiarity  of  the  Southern 
military  theory  is  mystery.  General  Monck,  of  the  time  of 
Charles  II.,  was  so  reticent,  I  have  heard,  that  when  any  one 
said,  "  Good-morning,  General/'  he  reflected  for  twelve  hours, 
and  then  replied,  "  Good-evening ;  "  which  caused  every  one 
to  wonder  at  the  accuracy  of  the  response.  That  is  an  excel 
lent  example  to  be  followed  by  officers;  and  thus — being 
ignorant — I  carefully  conceal  the  route  we  are  about  to  take. 

But  we  gOj  that  is  certain  ;  and  it  is  not  without  a  feeling 
of  regret  that  I  leave  this  old  familiar  spot,  where  so  many 
pleasant  hours  have  passed  away  with  song  and  laughter.  As 
I  gaze  around,  I  fall  into  a  reverie,  and  murmur. 

Strange  that  I  ever  thought  the  spot*  dull  and  commonplace. 
It  is  really  charming ;  and  memory  I  -know  will  make  it  still 
more  attractive.  There  is  that  music  in  the  pines  again — the 
band  of  the  brigade,  camped  yonder  in  the  green  thicket.  I 
heard  that  band  more  than  one  thousand  times,  I  suppose; 
strange  that  I  thought  it  annoying,  when  it  is  evidently  a  band 
of  unusual  excellence.  It  plays  all  day  long,  and  the  regi 
ments  are  eternally  cheering.  Do  you  hear  that  echoing-shout? 
You  would  think  they  were  about  to  charge  the  enemy  ;  but 
it  is  only  an  old  hare  that  has  jumped  up,  and  the  whole  bri- 


ON  THE   WING.  475 

gade  is  hot  upon  the  trail,  with  uproar  and  excitement.  If 
there  is  no  old  hare,  it  is  a  stray  horse — a  tall  woman  riding 
behind  a  short  man — a  big  negro  mounted  on  a  small  mule — 
anything  whatever.  The  troops  must  cheer  and  make  a  noise  ; 
and  the  band  must  play. 

Exquisite  music  !  How  could  I  ever  think  it  a  little  exces 
sive  in  quantity,  and  deficient  in  quality  ?  "  We  are  going  ! 
we  are  going  ! !  we  are  going  !  ! !  "  I  imagine  it  says — the 
refrain  of  music,  surging  to  me  from  the  pine  woods.  And  as 
the  brave  musicians  are  about  to  leave  me,  they  appear  to 
excel  all  their  brethren.  "  That  strain  again  !  "  and  I  hear  the 
brigade  cheering.  They  are  Georgians — children  of  the  sun, 
"  with  whom  revenge  is  virtue."  Brave  fellows,  they  have  got 
the  order  to  move,  and  hail  it  with  delight ;  for  all  the  wood  is 
burned,  and  they  are  going  to  fresher  fields  and  forests,  and  a 
fight,  perhaps. 

Farewell,  familiar  band  in  the  pines !  I  have  spent  some 
happy  moments  listening  to  your  loud,  triumphant  strains ; 
some  moments  filled  with  sadness,  too,  as  I  thought  of  all  those 
good  companions  gone  into  the  dust — for  music  penetrates  the 
heart,  and  stirs  the  fount  of  memory  ;  does  it  not,  good  reader  ? 
As  I  listened  to  that  band,  I  often  saw  the  old  familiar  faces ; 
and  the  never-to-be-forgotten  forms  of  loved  friends  came  back. 
They  looked  at  me  with  their  kindly  eyes ;  they  "  struck  a 
sudden  hand  in  mine,"  and  once  again  I  heard  their  voices 
echoing  in  the  present,  as  they  echoed  in  the  happy  days 
before ! 

So,  sweet  memorial  music,  floating  with  a  wild,  triumphant 
ardour  in  the  wind,  farewell  ! 

Farewell,  brave  comrades  cheering  from  the  pines ! 

All  health  and  happiness  attend  you ! 

In  addition  to  the  brass  band  above  referred  to,  my  days 
have  been  alive  here  with  the  ringing  strains  of  the  bugle. 
The  tattoo,  reveille,  and  stable-call  have  echoed  through  the 
pine  woods,  making  cheerful  music  in  the  short,  dull  days,  and 
the  winter  nights.  It  is  singular  how  far  you  can  hear  a  bugle- 
note.  That  one  is  victor  over  space,  and  sends  its  martial  peal 


476  WEARING   OF  THE    GRAY. 

through  the  forest  for  miles  around.  There  is  something  in 
this  species  of  music  unlike-all  others.  It  sounds  the  call  to 
combat  always  to  my  ears  ;  and  speaks  of  charging  squadrons, 
and  the  clash  of  sabres,  mingled  with  the  sharp  ring  of  the 
carbine.  But  what  I  hear  now  is  only  the  stable-call.  They 
have  set  it  to  music  ;  and  I  once  heard  the  daughter  of  a  cavalry 
officer  play  it  on  the  piano — a  gay  little  waltz,  and  merry 
enough  to  set  the  feet  of  maidens  and  young  men  in  motion. 
As  there  are  no  maidens  in  these  fields  of  war — at  least  none 
in  camp — we  cannot  dance  to  it. 

The  bugle  takes  its  place  among  the  old  familiar  sounds, 
which  have  not  been  sufficiently  attended  to  and  appreciated. 
All  these  winter  days,  it  has  been  but  a  call  to  rise  or  go  to 
rest :  now  it  is  eloquent  with  poetry  and  battle !  So,  blow  old 
bugle  I  Sound  the  tattoo,  and  the  reveille,  and  stable-call,  to 
your  heart's  content !  No  "  purple  glens  "  are  here  to  ring 
through,  or  to  "  set  replying  " — but  the  echoes  in  the  pines  are 
"  dying,  dying,  dying,"  with  a  martial  melody  and  sweetness, 
and  a  splendid  ardour,  which  are  better  than  the  weird  sound  of 
the  "  horns  of  elf-land  faintly  blowing  !  " 

There  is  our  banjo  too — could  I  think  of  neglecting  that 
great  instrument  in  my  list  of  "  sights  and  sounds  ?  "  It  plays 
"0  Johnny  Booker,  help  this  Nigger,"  "  Wake  up  in  the  Morn 
ing,"  "The  Old  Gray  Hoss,"  "  Come  Back,  Stephen,"  "Hard 
Times  and  Worse  a-CQmin,"  "  Sweet  Evelina,"  and  a  number  of 
other  songs.  It  is  a  good  banjo.  I  hear  it  at  present  playing 
"  Dixie  "  with  a  fervour  worthy  of  that  great  national  anthem. 
It  is  a  "  Yankee "  instrument,  captured  and  presented  to  the 
minstrel  who  now  wields  it,  by  admiring  friends !  But— proh 
pudor  ! — it  plays  Southern  ditties  only,  and  refuses  obstinately 
to  celebrate  the  glories  of  the  "  Happy  Land  of  Lincoln."  I  Save 
heard  the  songs  of  our  minstrel  which  he  plays  on  his  banjo, 
something  like  a  thousand  times — but  they  always  make  me 
laugh.  They  ring  so  gaily  in  the  airs  of  evening  that  all  sombre 
thoughts  are  banished — and,  if  sometimes  I  am  tempted  'to  ex 
claim,  "  There  is  that  old  banjo  rattling  again  !  "  I  always  relent, 
and  repent  me  of  my  disrespect  toward  the  good  old  friend ; 


ON  THE   WING.  477 

and  go  and  listen  and  laugh  at  the  woes  of  Booker,  or  the  col 
loquy  With  Stephen — above  all,  at  ijjie  "  Old  Gray  Hoss,"  noblest 
of  melodies,  and  now  adopted  as  the  national  air  of  all  the 
dwellers  in  Camp  No-Camp  ! 

Good -by,  jolly  old  Yankee  banjo !  Eattle  on  gaily,  and  play 
all  the  old  tunes !  It  is  singular  how  new  and  delightful  they 
are — what  a  world  of  mirth  they  contain. 

All  around  the  woods  are  deserted  and  lonely.  I  say  "the 
woods,"  but  there  are  scarcely  any  left;  they  have  fallen  before 
the  ringing  axes  of  the  troops. 

Your  soldier  is  a  foe  to  wood-lands.  Did  you  ever  see  a 
division,  after  a  long  and  dreary  march  through  rain,  and  mud, 
and  mire,  halt  at  evening  and  advance  to  attack  a  forest  ?  They 
carry  it  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet,  and  cheer  as  they  "  close  in." 
A  moment  ago,  and  the  weary  column  lagged,  and  dragged  its 
slow  length  along  like  a  wounded  snake — painfully  toiling  on 
without  talk  or  laughter.  Now  a  party  of  children  seem  to  have 
scattered  through  the  woods.  Songs,  shouts,  and  jests  resound ; 
the  axes  are  ringing  against  a  hundred  trunks,  huge  monarchs 
of  the  forest  crash  down,  roaring  in  their  fall,  and  fires  spring  up 
everywhere  like  magic. 

The  bivouac-fire  is  the  soldier's  delight.  It  warms  his  limbs 
and  cheers  his  spirit,  dries  his  wet  clothes,  cooks  his  rations,  and 
dispels  all  his  gloomy  thoughts. 

The  gay  groups  pass  the  jest  and  sing  their  songs,  and  tell  their 
stories.  Then  they  sleep ;  and  sleep  is  so  pleasant  after  a  long 
tramp — the  luxury  of  the  gods ! 

War  teaches  many  valuable  lessons  never  learned  in  peace. 

0  Sybarite,  tossing  on  your  couch  of  down  and  grumbling  at 
the  rose  leaf  which  destroys  your  slumber !     O  good  Lucullus, 
searching  for  an  appetite,  though  all  the  dainties  of  the  earth  are 
on  your  table — shoulder  a  musket  and  tramp  all  day  without  rest 
or  food,   and  you  will  learn  this  truth — that  the  greatest  of 
luxuries  are  bread  and  water  and  sleep ! 

1  have  said  that  the  woods  around  camp  are  deserted  and 
lonely.     Not  long  since  they  were  filled  with  troops.     But  the 
troops  are  gone. 


478  WEAKING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

Before  the  onslaught  of  the  regiments  and  brigades  the  forest 
disappeared — vanished  andffloated  off  in  smoke.  For  miles 
you  can  see  through  long  vistas  once  impenetrably  closed. 
Many  traces  remain  of  the  army  which  has  moved.  Kiding 
out  the  other  day  I  came  suddenly,  in  a  hollow  of  the  hills,  on 
a  deserted  camp.  The  soldiers  had  built  the  most  excellent 
log  cabins,  with  enormous  chimneys,  and  stout  roofs  held  down 
by  cross- poles  well  secured;  but  just  as  they  were  finished, 
they  were  forced  to  leave  them.  One  curious  structure  I  re 
member  observing  especially.  It  was  a  large  log  chimney  on 
the  side  of  the  declivity,  with  "flankers"  of  timber.  In  the 
hillside  the  original  genius  who  had  planned  this  retreat  hdd 
dug  a  sort  of  cave,  piled  dirt  on  the  timber  roof,  and  made  his 
retreat  bomb-proof!  He  evidently  designed  retiring  from  the 
world  to  this  comfortable  retreat,  extending  his  feet  toward  his 
blazing  fire,  and  sleeping  or  reflecting  without  thought  of  the 
enemy's  artillery. 

One  and  all,  these  "  winter  quarters "  were  deserted,  and  I 
thought  as  I  looked  at  them  of  those  excellent  houses  which 
our  forces  left  near  Centreville  and  Manassas  in  March, 
1862. 

Dreary,  bare,  lonely,  melancholy — such  is  the  landscape 
around  me. 

That  bugle  !     It  sounds  "  to  horse  !  " 

Camp  No-Camp  goes,  and  becomes  a  thing  of  the  Past ! 

The  band,  the  bugle,  the  banjo,  sound  no  more — at  least  in  this 
portion  of  the  world.  I  leave  with  a  sigh  that  excellent  stable 
for  my  horse :  I  cast  a  last  lingering  look  upon  the  good  log 
chimney  which  I  have  mused  by  so  often,  pondering  idly  on  the 
future  or  the  past. 

Farewell  chimney,  that  does  not  smoke ;  and  stable,  which 
a  new  log  floor  has  just  perfected!  Farewell  pine-trees  and 
mud,  and  dreams  and  reveries,  and  recollections — at  least 
here! 

Strike  the  tent,  O  African  of  the  scriptural  name !  Put  my 
traps  in  the  wagon — strap  my  blanket  behind  the  saddle — give 
me  my  sabre  and  pistol,  and  hold  my  stirrup ! 


ON  THE  WING.  479 

You  will  oblige  me  particularly  if  you  will  tell  me  where  I 
arn  going,  friend. 

There  is  the  bugle,  and  the  colours  are  unrolled. 
"  Forward !  " 
And  so  we  depart. 


PAET  IV.     • 

SCOUT  LIFE 


I. 

THE  SCOUTS. 


ON  the  borders  of  Scotland,  in  the  good  old  times,  there  was  a 
"  Debatable  land  " — bone  of  contention  between  Pict  and 
Anglo-Saxon.  In  Virginia,  lately,  there  was  a  similar  region, 
the  subject  of  dispute  between  Federal  and  Southron.  In 
Scotland,  the  men-at-arms  and  barons  fought  along  the  banks 
of  the  Tweed ;  in  Virginia,  "  Mosby's  men  "  and  their  blue 
opponents  contended  on  the  banks  of  the  Rappahannock. 
Our  "Debatable  land"  was,  in  fact,  all  that  fine  and  beauti 
ful  country  lying  between  the  Potomac  and  the  last-named 
river,  over  which  the  opposing  armies  of  the  North  and  the 
South  alternately  advanced  and  retired. 

This  land  was  the  home  of  the  scout ;  the  chosen  field  of  the 
ranger  and  the  partisan.  Mosby  was  king  there  :  and  his  liege 
men  lived  as  jovial  lives  as  did  the  followers  of  Robin  Hood  in 
Sherwood  Forest,  in  the  old  days  of  Merry  England. 

But  the  romantic  lives  of  Mosby  and  his  men  will  not  be 
touched  on  here.  The  subject  would  become  enthralling  were 
it  to  be  more  than  alluded  to — the  pen  would  drag  the  hand 
into  a  sketch,  and  not  a  short  one,  of  that  splendid  ranger-life 
amid  the  Fauquier  forests,  the  heart  of  "  Mosby's  Confederacy." 
Not  to-day  can  I  delineate  the  lithe,  keen  partisan,  with  his 
roving  glance,  his  thin  curling  lip,  his  loose  swaying  belt  con 
taining  the  brace  of  pistols  ready  loaded  and  capped.  Some 
abler  hand  must  draw  the  chief  of  rangers,  and  relate  his  ex 
ploits — the  design  of  the  present  writer  is  to  record  some  ad- 


484:  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

ventures  of  "  scout  life,"  which  differs  in  many  points  from  that 
of  the  regular  partisan,  though  not  wholly. 

The  scout  proper  is  "  commanding  in  the  field,"  with  no  one 
near  to  give  him  orders.  He  goes  and  comes  at  will,  having 
that  about  him  which  all  pickets  obey.  He  is  "  on  detached 
service  ;"  and  having  procured  certain  information,  reports  to 
the  officer  who  has  sent  him,  without  intermediate  ceremony. 
Operating  within  the  enemy's  lines  at  all  times,  he  depends  for 
success  and  safety  on  the  quickness  of  his  eye  and  hand — and 
his  reliance  on  these  is  great.  He  is  silent  in  his  movements, 
low-toned  in  his  speech,  abstemious  in  his  habits,  and  as  un 
tiring  on  the  track  of  the  enemy  as  the  Cuban  blood-hound 'on 
the  trail  of  the  fugitive.  He  sleeps  rarely  in  houses,  preferring 
the  woods ;  and  always  slumbers  "  with  one  eye  open,"  on  the 
look  out  for  his  enemy. 

The  scout  has  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  country,  and  is 
even  acquainted  with  "  every  hog  path."  He  travels  in  the 
woods;  and  often  in  crossing  a  sandy  highway  dismounts,  and 
backs  his  horse  across  the  road,  to  mislead  the  enemy,  on  the 
watch  for  "  guerillas, "  as  to  the  direction  of  his  march.  He 
thus  "flanks"  their  pickets,  penetrates  to  their  camps,  recon 
noitres  their  number  and  position,  and  strives  to  pick  up  some 
straggler  whom  he  can  pump  for  information.  Thus  lurking 
and  prowling  around  the  enemy's  camps,  by  night  and  day, 
the  scout  never  relaxes  his  exertions  until  he  discovers  what 
he  wishes.  That  discovery  once  made — of  the  strength,  situ 
ation,  and  probable  designs  of  the  enemy — the  stealthy  emis 
sary  "  snakes "  back  as  he  came  ;  mounts  his  trusty  steed  in 
the  depth  of  the  wood  ;  and  first  listening  attentively,  sets  out 
on  his  return  with  his  supply  of  valuable  information. 

If  he  cannot  "  flank  "  the  enemy's  pickets,  he  charges  them. 
If  he  cannot  glide  through,  he  fights  through.  If  he  meets  a 
straggling  enemy  or  enemies  not  in  too  great  number,  he  puts 
his  pistol  to  his  or  their  heads,  and  brings  him  or  them  along— 
pleasantly  chatting  with  them  as  he  goes  along,  but  keeping 
his  eye  and  his  pistol  muzzle  upon  them. 

When  he  relates  his  adventures,  he  does  so  with  a  laugh— 


THE  SCOUTS.  485 

noting  the  humorous  side  of  things.  Indeed  his  life  seems 
chiefly  attractive  to  him  from  that  very  humorous  phase,  and 
he  jests  about  his  perils  with  a  gay  light  spirit  which  is  one  of 
the  greatest  charms  of  his  society.  He  has  extricated  himself 
from  deadly  peril  safely,  "  fooled"  his  foe,  and  is  chatting  after 
the  occurrence  with  his  friends  by  the  camp  fire.  Could  any 
thing  be  more  satisfactory  ?  So  the  scout  plays  over  the  com 
edy  for  your  entertainment;  relates  every  incident  in  a  spirit 
of  dry  humour ;  rolls  up  in  his  blanket  by  the  fire  when  he  is 
tired ;  and,  before  daylight,  has  disappeared  on  another  expe 
dition. 

Thus  toiling,  watching,  and  fighting,  enduring  hardship,  risk 
ing  liberty  and  life  hourly,  the  scout  passes  his  life.  He  is  not 
a  paid  spy — not  a  spy  at  all,  for  he  goes  uniformed  and  armed, 
and  the  work  is  his  reward.  The  trump  of  fame  will  never 
sound  for  him.  If  he  falls,  it  will  be  in  the  depths  of  some 
forest,  where  his  bones  will  moulder  away  undiscovered ;  if  he 
survives,  he  will  return  to  obscurity  as  a  rain-drop  sinks  into 
the  ocean  and  is  seen  no  more. 

That  will  be  his  fate  ;  but  while  he  is  alive,  he  lives,  He 
loves  his  vocation,  and  gives  to  the  cause  what  he  possesses — a 
piercing  eye,  a  ready  hand,  and  a  daring  soul.  For  his  ser 
vices,  often  invaluable,  and  his  risk  of  life  night  and  day,  he  re 
ceives — when  he  can  get  it — eleven  dollars  a  month  ;  and  with 
this,  or  with  nothing,  he  is  perfectly  content.  What  he  asks  is 
simply  the  liberty  to  rove ;  to  hunt  the  enemy  after  the  fashion 
most  agreeable  to  him  ;  to  have  himself  killed,  if  the  killing 
must  take  place,  in  single  combat,  with  the  pistol,  rather  than 
in  line  of  battle  with  the  musket. 

It  results  from  this  that  the  life  of  the  scout  is  apt  to  be 
crowded  with  adventure,  contrast,  and  all  that  is  picturesque. 
Here  to-day,  away  to-morrow ;  closeted  with  the  commanding 
general,  while  an  orderly  keeps  off  all  intruders,  and  then  dis 
appearing  like  a  shadow  on  some  secret  mission  ;  passing  the 
most  obdurate  pickets  with  a  single  word  ;  silently  appearing 
in  the  houses  of  friends  far  behind  the  enemy's  lines ;  reconnoi 
tring  their  camps,  picking  up  stragglers,  attacking  them  alone 


486  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

or  in  company  with  others,  upon  all  occasions — such  are  some 
of  the  phases  which  the  scout  exhibits,  such  some  of  the  occu 
pations  of  his  stirring  existence. 

A  few  of  these  adventurous  incidents  are  here  recorded  just 
as  I  heard  them  from  an  accomplished  scout  of  General  Stuart. 
They  will  be  found  sufficiently  "  romantic,"  but  I  believe  them 
to  be  exactly  true. 

As  such,  they  possess  a  value  which  no  mere  fiction  could. 


II. 

HUNTED  DOWN. 


i. 

AMONG  the  numerous  scouts  employed  by  General  Stuart, 
none  was  braver  or  more  intelligent  than  a  young  man  named 
Frank  S .  Innumerable  were  his  adventures,  almost  in 
credible  his  hair-breadth  escapes  and  his  reckless,  dare-devil 
exploits.  The  annals  of  fiction  contain  nothing  more  curious 
and  moving  than  some  of  his  experiences ;  and  in  this  and  the 
succeeding  sketch  I  propose  to  indicate  the  species  of  daily  life 

which  S lived  during  the  late  war. 

A  few  words,  first,  of  the  scout  himself.  He  certainly  was  a 
ranger  born.  Passionately  devoted  to  his  dangerous  calling, 
and  following  it  from  predilection,  not  from  any  hope  of  reward, 
or  spurred  on  by  ambition  of  distinction,  he  was  never  so  hap 
py  as  when  beating  up  the  quarters  of  the  enemy,  and  throwing 
them  into  confusion  by  some  sudden  attack.  He  was  not  an 
officer,  and  never  moved  a  finger  to  secure  a  commission;  all 
he  asked  was  permission  to  mount  his  horse,  wander  off  and 
seek  the  neighbourhood  of  the  enemy's  camps,  in  search  of  inci 
dent  and  adventure.  On  such  occasions  he  preferred  to  be 
alone,  to  follow  his  appointed  work  without  assistance,  depend 
ing  only  upon  his  own  strong  arm  and  trusty  weapons.  He 
cared  little  for  society,  though  no  one  seemed  more  amiable  ;  I 
never  saw  a  brighter  or  more  friendly  smile  than  his.  That 
smile  did  not  deceive ;  there  was  no  deceit  of  any  sort  in 


488  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

S .  He  loved  his  friends,  but  he  loved  his  calling  better 

still.  It  might  have  been  said  of  him  that  man  delighted  him 
not,  nor  woman  either.  His  "  chief  delight "  was  to  penetrate 
the  dense  woods  of  Fauquier,  assail  the  enemy  wherever  he 
?ound  an  opening,  and  inflict  upon  them  all  the  injury  in  his 
power.  In  the  eyes  of  the  scout  those  enemies  were  wolves, 
and  he  hunted  them.  This  sketch  will  demonstrate  the  fact 
that  now  and  then  they  returned  the  compliment. 

In  person  S was  suited  to  his  calling  ;  stout  but  active ; 

a  good  hand  with  pistol  and  sabre ;  quick  of  eye ;  and  with 
nerves  which  no  peril  could  shake.  Soldiers  generally  prefer 
broad  daylight  and  an  open  country  to  operate  in  ;  S — *— 
liked  a  forest  where  no  moon  shone ;  whose  soft  earth  gave 
back  no  sound  when  the  hoofs  of  his  horse  fell  upon  it ;  and 
where  even  in  the  gloomy  silence  of  midnight  he  could  approach 
a  vidette  undiscovered.  When  he  found  it  necessary  to  pene 
trate  the  hostile  lines,  and  could  not  elude  the  watchful  guar 
dians  of  the  night,  his  habit  was  to  brace  himself  in  his  stirrups, 
draw  his  pistol,  and  to  the  quick,  "  Halt !  who  goes  there  ? " 
shout,  "  Form  fours  !  draw  sabres  !  charge  !  "  to  an  imaginary 
squadron  behind  him,  and  pass  on  with  loud  yells,  firing  his 
pistol  as  he  advanced.  The  result  was,  generally,  that  the  picket 
fired  wildly  at  him,  and  then  fled  before  the  tremendous  on 
slaught  of  "  rebel  cavalry,"  whereupon  the  adventurous  scout 
passed  through  at  a  thundering  gallop,  drove  the  picket  before 
him,  and  adroitly  slipping,  at  the  opportune  moment,  into  some 
by-path  of  the  woods,  was  "  within  the  lines."  When  the  ene 
my  made  a  stand  at  the  next  rising  ground  to  receive  the  ex 
pected  charge,  none  came.  When  they  returned  to  look  for 
S ,  he  had  disappeared. 

But  to  come  to  the  incident  I  design  narrating. 

It  was  in  November,  1863,  when  the  Federal  army  lay  around 

Cnlpeper  Court-House  and  Mitchell's  Station,  that  S was 

sent  on  a  stfout  to  ascertain  the  number,  position,  and  move 
ments  of  the  Federal  forces.  Taking  with  him  two  compan 
ions,  he  crossed  the  upper  Eapidan,  passed  the  Confederate  cav 
alry  pickets,  and  carefully  worked  his  way  toward  Mitchell's 


HUNTED  DOWN.  489 

Station.     General  Meade  had  pushed  forward  his  lines  to  this 
*point  a  few  days  before — or  rather  established  large  camps 
there — and  this  fact,  visible  from  Clark's   mountain,  made  it 
desirable  to  ascertain,  if  possible,  his  designs.     This  was 
mission. 

In  due  time  the  small  party  reached  the  vicinity  of  the  sta- 
tion,  and  it  now  became  necessary  to  prosecute  the  remaihder*\ 
of  the  journey  on  foot.  They  accordingly  dismounted,  and 
leaving  their  horses  in  a  thick  copse,  "  snaked  "  in  the  direc 
tion  of  a  large  Federal  camp  near  at  hand,  taking  advantage 
of  every  cover.  In  this  manner  they  came  close  upon  the 
camp,  and  were  rewarded  with  a  sight  of  acres  of  canvas. 
Lazy-looking  infantry  were  strolling  about,  quarter-guards 
walking  their  posts,  and  officers  in  gay  uniforms  went  to  and 
fro,  saluted  by  the  sentinels  with  a  "  present  "  as  they  passed. 

The  size  of  the  encampments  enabled  S to  form  a  tole'r- 

ably  accurate  estimate  of  the  amount  of  force  which  General 
Meade  had  concentrated  at  this  point ;  and  having  passed  the 
whole  day  thus  moving  cautiously  around  the  spot,  thereby 
discovering  all  which  a  mere  reconnoissance  could  reveal,  the 
scout  began  to  look  for  stragglers,  from  whom,  as  his  prisoners, 
he  might  derive  more  accurate  information  still.  The  love  of 
rambling  is  inherent  in  soldiers  of  every  nation  ;  and  the  pros 
pect  of  butter  and  eggs,  resulting  from  a  foraging  expedition 
to  the  neighbouring  farms,  was  well  known  to  be  irresistible  with 
the  Federal  troops.  To  pick  up  these  wandering  foragers,  if 

they  were  not  in  too  great  numbers,  was  the  object  of  S . 

His  method  on  such  occasions  was  to  come  upon  the  individual 
or  the  party  unawares,  silently  present  the  muzzle  of  his  pistol, 
and  "  take  them  in  charge."  Once  his  prisoners,  all  was  friendly 
and  peaceful,  and  all  the  information  possible  was  extracted. 

After  a  fatiguing  day,  S and  his  party  lay  down  in  the 

woods  near  the  Federal  camp,  to  snatch  an  hour's  sleep  before 
proceeding  to  their  nocturnal  work.  But  on  this  occasion, 
Fate  had  determined  to  play  them  a  sorry  trick.  The  "  strag 
glers  "  whom  'they  designed  hunting  and  entrapping  during 
the  hours  of  darkness  were  to  "  turn  up  "  in  a  fashion  and  at  a 


490  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

moment  neither  expected  nor  desired.  The  woful  adven 
tures  which  befell  the  scout  and  his  companions  I  now  proceed 
to  relate. 

—  had  selected  for  his  bivouac  a  retired  spot  where  the 


encircling  woods  gave  excellent  promise  of  concealment,  and 
the  covert  was  so  dense  as  to  set  him  completely  at  his  ease. 
Through  the  thick  brushwood  no  glimmer  of  firelight  could  be 
seen  ;  and  the  scouts  ventured  to  kindle  a  fire,  which  the  chill 
November  night  rendered  far  from  unacceptable.  By  the 
carefully  shaded  blaze  they  warmed  their  benumbed  fingers, 
ate  their  supplies  of  hard  bread  and  bacon,  and  spread  their 

blankets  for  a  brief  sleep.  S took  off  his  shoes  ;  laid  his 

hat  at  his  head ;  and  having  picked  up  somewhere  a  certain 
"  Life  of  Stonewall  Jackson,"  recently  published  in  Richmond, 
now  drew  it  from  his  haversack,  and  read  a  few  passages  by 
tRe  firelight.  Although  he  did  not  inform  me  of  the  fact,  this 
volume  must  have  produced  a  soothing  effect  upon  his  feel 
ings,  for  in  a  short  time  his  eyelids  drooped,  the  volume  fell 
from  his  hands,  and  he  sank  to  slumber.  His  companions  were 
already  snoring  by  his  side.  * 

They  slept  longer  than  they  designed  doing— in  fact 
throughout  the  entire  night.  The  weather,  which  had  been 
lowering  at  nightfall,  became  gradually  more  threatening ;  and 
soon  an  imperceptible  drizzle  began,  just  sufficient  to  wet  the 
blankets  of  the  sleepers,  but  not  to  chill  and  awake  them. 
They  slept  on  serenely  ;  and  now  as  day  drew  near,  the  hostile 
Fate  approached.  It  came  in  the  shape  of  a  squad  of  infantry 
soldiers,  armed  with  muskets,  from  the  adjouring  camp  ;  and 
this  party,  on  their  way  to  forage  for  butter,  eggs,  poultry, 
and  other  desirable  components  of  a  military  breakfast,  had 
stumbled  on. the  slumbering  scouts. 

The  first  intimation  which  S had  of  the  danger  which 

menaced  him  was,  he  declared,  an  instinctive  feeling  that 
some  dangerous  foe  was  near  ;  and  this  even  before  he  woke. 
He  was  not  long,  however,  to  remain  in  doubt,  or  be  compelled 
to  question  his  instincts.  He  opened  his  eyes  to  find  the 
blanket  suddenly  drawn  away  from  his  face,  and  to  hear  a 


HUNTED  DOWN.  491 

harsh  and  sarcastic  voice  exclaim :  "  How  are  you,  Johnny 
Reb  ?  Come,  get  up,  and  we  will  give  yon  more  comfortable 
accommodations  than  out  here  in  the  rain  !  " 

S was  wide-awake  in  an  instant,  and  through  his  half- 
closed  lids  reconnoitred,  counting  his  opponents.  They  were 
six  in  number,  all  armed  and  ready.  The  situation  looked 
ugly.  With  his  companions  wide-awake  and  on  the  alert 
there  might  have  been  some  ground  for  hope ;  but  they  were 
slumbering  like  the  Seven  Sleepers,  and  in  utter  unconscious 
ness  of  danger.  As  to  S himself,  he  was  in  their  very 

grasp,  and  practically  disarmed  ;  for  it  was  obvious  that  at  the 
first  movement  which  he  made  to  draw  his  pistol  from  the 
holster  around  his  waist,  the  six  muskets,  cocked  and  pointing 
at  his  breast,  would  be  discharged  as  one  piece,  and  his  body 
riddled  with  bullets. 

The  situation  was  depressing.  S and  his  companions 

were  in  a  veritable  trap.  The  least  movement  which  he  made 
would  at  once  put  an  end  to  him,  if  six  balls  through  the  body 
could  do  so  ;  and  it  was  obviously  necessary  to  surrender  at 
once  or  betake  himself  to  strategy.  The  first  was  out  of  the 

question,  for  S had  made  up  his  mind  never  to  surrender, 

had  indeed  sworn  a  solemn  oath  not  to  do  so  under  any  cir 
cumstances  ;  the  second  alternative  remained.  A  ruse  had 
already  suggested  itself  to  his  quick  and  daring  mind ;  and 
this  he  now  proceeded  instantly  to  carry  out.  To  the  sneering 
address  of  his  opponent  bidding  him  get  up,  he  made  no  im 
mediate  reply,  but  again  closed  his  eyes,  pulled  the  blanket  up 
again  over  his  sl|oulders,  and  turning  his  back,  muttered  in  a 
sleepy  voice  :  "  Oh  !  go  away,  and  let  me  sleep,  will  you  !  " 

This  reply  highly  tickled  his  adversaries ;  and  so  much  did 
they  relish  the  evident  impression  of  the  "  Johnny  Reb  "  that 
he  was  among  his  own  comrades  in  the  Confederate  camp,  that 

they  shook  all  over  in  the  excess  of  their  mirth.  S was  a 

dangerous  man,  however,  to  jest  with  ;  and  no  doubt  believed 
in  the  proverb  which  declares  that  "  they  laugh  best  who  laugh 
last."  While  his  opponents  were  thus  indulging  their  merri 
ment,  and  highly  enjoying  the  surprise  and  mortification  he 


492  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

would  feel  when  awake  to  the  real  nature  of  his  situation, 

g was  busy  executing  the  plan  which  he  had  determined 

upon.  Pulling  his  blanket  still  further  over  his  head,  he  drew 
a  long  laboured  breath,  turned  as  men  do  languidly  in  slum 
ber,  and  cautiously  moved  his  hand  beneath  the  blanket  to 
ward  the  pistol  in  his  belt.  The  hand  slowly  stole  downwards 
under  the  cover,  approached  the  weapon,  and  then  he  had 
grasped  the  handle.  A  second  careless  movement  extracted 
the  pistol  from  the  holster  ;  his  finger  was  on  the  hammer — 
without  noise  the  weapon  was  cocked. 

The  scout  was  just  in  time.  The  squad  had  finished  their 
laugh,  enjoyed  their  little  comedy  sufficiently,  and  now  design 
ed  bringing  the  affair  to  an  end.  The  leader  accordingly  stooped 
down  and  dragged  away  the  blanket — when  a  shot  followed, 
with  the  muzzle  of  the  pistol  upon  his  breast,  and  he  fell  for 
ward  dead,,  covering  S with  his  blood.'  The  scene  which 

followed  was  brief.  The  rest  of  the  squad  levelled  their  mus 
kets  at  the  scout,  and  fired  with  the  muzzles  nearly  touching 
him,  but  he  was  wounded  by  none.  The  body  of  their  com 
panion  lying  across  him  received  the  larger  portion  of  the  balls ; 

and  S rose  to  his  feet,  armed  with  his  deadly  revolver, 

which  still  contained  four  charges.  These  he  fired  in  succes 
sion  rapidly,  but  with  good  aim,  and  two  of  the  five  remain 
ing  men  were  wounded..  The  three  others,  finding  their  guns 
discharged,  dropped  them,  and  hastily  ran  toward  the  Federal 
camp. 

S 's  companions  had   been   aroused  by  the  firing,  but 

were  of  no  assistance  to  him.  One  disgracefully  fied  into  the 
woods  without  firing  a  shot,  and  the  other  had  committed  the 
fatal  fault  of  allowing  his  arms  to  become  wetted  by  the  rain. 
When  he  attempted  to  fire  his  pistol  the  cap  snapped,  and  none 
of  the  barrels  could  be  discharged. 

This  proved,  however,  of  no  great  importance.     S had 

repulsed  the  whole  party  for  the  moment,  and  did  not  need 
assistance.  What  remained  for  them  now  was  a  rapid  retreat 
from  the  dangerous  locality.  The  sudden  firing,  and  the  men 
running  in,  had  alarmed  the  Federal  camp,  and  a  large  party 


HUNTED  DOWN.  493 

were  seen  approaching  rapidly  to  take  vengeance  for  the  blood 

of  their  comrades.  S accordingly  hastened  to  retire,  and 

disappeared  with  his  companion  just  as  the  enemy  rushed  upon 
the  area  near  the  bivouac  fire.  In  this  sudden  "  change  of 
base,"  stores  of  some  value  to  him  were  necessarily  abandoned. 
In  fact  he  was  compelled  to  leave  his  horse,  hat,  shoes,  blan 
ket,  and  u  Life  of  Jackson" — to  fly  bareheaded  and  in  his 
stocking  feet.  Even  thus  lightened  of  all  superfluous  weight, 
it  was  doubtful  if  he  could  escape  ;  for  the  shouts  which  now 
resounded  as  he  ran  showed  that  the  enemy  were  pursuing  him 
hotly,  with  the  evident  determination  of  running  him  "  to  earth  " 
and  destroying  him. 

In  a  few  moments  it  became  plain  to  S that  he  was  to 

be  "  hunted  down."  In  fact,  the  encounter  at  the  bivouac — 
resulting  so  disastrously  to  the  assailants — had  profoundly  en 
raged  their  friends,  and  a  large  detachment  speedily  scattered, 
blocking  up  every  avenue  by  which  the  scout  could  escape. 
In  the  distance  cavalry  could  be  seen  preparing  to  cut  him  off 

from  the  mountain,  and  before  S had  gone  half  a  mile  he 

awoke  to  the  unpleasant  consciousness  that  he  was  surrounded. 
Stealing  along,  a -solitary  figure — for  his  companion  had  gone 
another  way — he  peered  warily  from  his  covert,  seeking  a  loop 
hole  of  escape  ;  but  wherever  he  turned  the  paths  were  pick 
eted,  and  the  chances  of  escape  seemed  hopeless  indeed. 

Under  circumstances  so  discouraging,  an  ordinary  man  would 

have  lost  "  heart  of  hope."  But  S was  not  an  ordinary 

man.  His  perilous  situation  only  developed  the  strong  man 
hood  of  his  character. 

He  surveyed  his  position  at  a  glance,  and  estimated  the 
chances.  It  seemed  that  nothing  but  his  own  quick  eye  and 
knowledge  of  woodcraft  could  save  him ;  if  he  was  caught, 
there  appeared  to  be  small  likelihood  of  his  escaping  death. 
He  had  penetrated  the  Federal  lines,  reconnoitred  their  en 
campments,  slain  their  foraging  parties  ;  and  although  this  was 
done  in  full  Confederate  uniform,  with  arms  at  his  side,  as  a 

legitimate  partisan  operation,  S had  little  doubts  of  the 

light  in  which  his  enemies  would  insist  upon  regarding  him. 


494  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

He  felt  that  he  would  probably  be  treated  as  a  "  guerilla,"  if 
not  as  a  spy,  and  shot  without  benefit  of  clergy.  For  this  rea 
son  he  did  not  intend  to  surrender.  He  proposed  to  escape 
if  he  could  ;  if  he  could  not,  he  would  sell  his  life  as  dearly  as 
possible. 

One  conviction  is  apt  to  result  very  powerfully  from  scout 
life — that  few  situations  are  so  really  hopeless  that  skill  and 
nerve  will  not  extricate  their  possessor.  S had  these  quali 
ties  in  great  perfection,  and  now  brought  all  his  courage  and 
finesse  to  bear  upon  the  contest  for  life  and  death.  His  ene 
mies  were  on  every  side  following  the  trail  of  their  game,  and 
with  videttes  posted  at  every  point  around,  were  beating  the 
covert  for  the  prey. 

S had,  however,  been  hunted  before,  and  his  brave 

heart  did  not  recoil  from  the  struggle.  Running  silently  with 
bare  head  and  shoeless  feet  through  the  woods,  he  paused  from 
time  to  time  to  listen  to  the  shouts  of  his  pursuers,  and  it  soon 
became  obvious  that  they  were  rapidly  approaching  upon 
every  side.  However  fleet  of  foot  he  might  be,  and  whatever 
might  be  his  accomplishments  in  woodcraft,  the  probabilities 
of  escape  grew  more  and  more  doubtful.  As  he  doubled,  and 
turned,  and  circled,  like  a  hunted  wolf,  the  enemy  every  in 
stant  drew  nearer,  and  soon  their  detached  parties  were  nearly 
upon  him.  It  was  evident  that  they  knew  the  country  perfect 
ly  ;  and  such  was  their  success  in  intercepting  his  retreat,  that 
he  very  soon  found  himself  completely  hemmed  in,  and  his  ene 
mies  in  every  direction  cutting  off  his  escape.  The  parties 
gradually  closed  in  upon  him  on  every  side,  and  in  a  few  min 
utes  more,  unless  he  could  discover  some  place  of  concealment, 
he  must  inevitably  fall  into  their  hands,  when  a  bullet  or  a  cord 
would  terminate  the  hunt  and  his  career  on  earth  at  the  same 
time. 

This  conviction  induced  S ,  whose  nerve  had  never  fal 
tered,  to  seek  on  every  side  for  some  hiding-place.  But  the 
result  was  discouraging.  The  woods  were  open — without  un 
dergrowth — and  every  moment  was  now  precious.  S 

redoubled  his  speed,  and  darting  through  the  wood,  suddenly 


HUNTED  DOWN.  495 

found  himself  in  a  small  open  field,  in  the  middle  of  which 
rose  a  clump  of  pines,  one  of  which  had  recently  fallen.  In 
the  bushy  top  of  this  fallen  tree  he  now  concealed  himself, 
panting  from  his  long  run,  and  listening  to  the  sound  of  his 
approaching  foes  closing  in  on  every  side.  To  fight  and  die 
seemed  his  only  resource ;  and  reloading  his  pistol,  he  grimly 
waited  for  the  moment  which  should  find  him  at  bay,  in  the 
presence  of  his  enemies. 

He  did  not  wait  long.  A  few  minutes  only  had  elapsed 
when  a  party  of  three  or  four  Federals  entered  the  little  area, 
and  approached  the  clump  of  pines.  They  passed  close  to  the 
scout,  looking  everywhere  for  traces  of  him  ;  but  he  crouched 
down,-  held  his  breath,  and  they  seemed  about  to  prosecute  their 
search  in  some  other  direction.  S was  indeed  congratulat 
ing  himself  upon  his  safety,  when,  raising  his  head,  he  caught 
the  eye  of  one  of  the  enemy,  who  had  lingered  behind  the  rest, 
fixed  steadily  upon  him.  He  was  discovered ;  and  starting  to 
his  feet,  was  greeted  with  the  shout,  "  Here  he  is  !  "  which  was 
instantly  echoed  by  a  hundred  voices. 

S now  saw  that  his  life  hung  upon  a  thread.  Unless  he 

could  force  his  way  through  the  cordon  hemming  him  in,  he 
was  lost.  He  was  unwilling  to  waste  the  loads  in  his  pistols 
before  the  final  struggle  took  place — the  last  desperate  strug 
gle  which  was  to  terminate  all.  But  that  conflict  now  seemed 
about  to  take  place. 

For  a  single  instant  the  scout  and  his  foes  stood  looking  at 
each  other,  and  neither  made  any  movement  to  fire.  In  pre 
sence  of  this  desperate  man,  the  enemy  seemed  averse  to  the 
encounter,  and  waited  for  their  comrades  to  come  up.  This 
short  pause  gave  the  scout  an  opportunity  to  decide  upon  his 
course.  If  he  could  only  secure  a  short  "  start," — if  he  were 
only  mounted  !  His  feet  were  bruised  and  sore,  his  strength 
greatly  diminished  by  the  close,  hot  chase.  Oh  !  for  a  horse  to 
charge  them  and  break  through,  as  he  felt  he  could  though 
they  were  forty  deep !  As  the  thought  flashed  through  his 
mind,  his  eyes  fell  on  a  mule  which  was  grazing  in  the  field 
not  far  from  him.  To  dart  to  the  animal  and  throw  himself 


496  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

upon  its  back  was  the  work  of  an  instant ;  and  in  the  midst  of 
furious  outcries  and  hastily  fired  shots  he  dug  his  heels  into  the 
sides  of  the  frightened  animal,  and  commenced  his  race  for  life. 

Behold  S now,  mounted  on  his  mule,  with  bare  head 

and  shoeless  feet,  grasping  the  mane  of  the  animal  with  one 
hand,  holding  his  pistol  in  the  other,  and  driving  onward  like 
some  grotesque  figure  of  the  German  ballads  !  Such  was  the 
speed  to  which  he  forced  the  animal,  that  he  would  probably 
have  distanced  his  pursuers  had  not  the  perversity  of  the  brute 
defeated  all  his  calculations.  The  mule  had  no  sooner  reco 
vered  from  his  first  fright  at  finding  himself  so  unceremoni 
ously  mounted,  than  he  made  violent  attempts  by  "  roaching  " 

his  back,  and  kicking  up,  to  unseat  his  rider.     S w^-s  an 

excellent  horseman,  and  might  have  defied  the  kicking-up  por 
tion  of  the  performance,  despite  the  fact  that  he  was  riding 
without  saddl^  or  bridle ;  but  no  horsemanship  could  counteract 
the  detestable  roaching  of  the  animal's  spine.  At  the  fifth  or 
sixth  kick-up,  accompanied  by  a  movement  which  made  the 
mule  resemble  an  angry  cat  in  outline,  the  scout  was  landed  on 
terra  firma,  amid  the  shouts  of  his  enemies,  who  rushed  toward 
him,  firing  as  they  came. 

They  reached  the  spot,  uttering  outcries  and  curses ;  but  their 
obstinate  foe  had  once  more  eluded  them.  The  scout  had  risen 
quickly,  darted  into  the  woods,  and  the  chase  again  commenced 
with  more  ardour  than  at  first. 

S now  put  forth  all  his  remaining  strength  to  distance 

the  enemy,  following  more  hotly  than  ever  on  his  track.  Pant 
ing  and  worn  out  almost,  half  resolving  a  hundred  times  to 
turn  and  fight  and  die,  he  still  kept  on,  the  shouts  of  his  enemies 
in  his  very  ears.  He  was  growing,  desperate,  and  had  become 
nearly  exhausted.  A  burning  thirst  raged  in  his  throat ;  and 
although  the  enemy  were  on  his  very  heels,  he  could  not  resist 
the  temptation,  as  he  reached  a  little  meadow  through  which 
ran  a  limpid  stream,  to  pause  and  quench  his  thirst.  Throwing 
himself  upon  his  knees  on  the  margin  of  the  brook,  he  stooped 
and  swallowed  one  refreshing  draught  of  the  cool  water,  and 
then  rising  up,  found  from  the  shouts  of  his  pursuers  that  they 


HUNTED  DOWN.  497 

were  at  last  upon  him — all  further  hope  from  flight  of  no  avail. 
A  last  desperate  expedient  suggested  itself — concealment  in  the 
undergrowth  which  skirted  the  stream  ;  and  throwing  himself 
at  full  length  amid  the  bushes,  not  far  from  the  spot  where  he 
had  knelt  down,  he  hastily  drew  the  undergrowth  around  him 
and  awaited  the  struggle. 

He  had  scarcely  disappeared  from  view  when  his  enemies 
reached  the  spot.  He  heard  their  footsteps ;  their  cries  re 
sounded  ;  and  suddenly  the  voice  of  one  of  them  exclaimed  : 

"  Here's  the  scoundrel's  knee-print  in  the  sand  where  he 
drank  just  now  !  He  ain't  far  off!  " 

This  cry  was  the  signal  for  all  the  detached  parties  to  con 
verge  toward  the  spot ;  and  very  soon  the  field  was  fall  of 
them.  The  scout  heard  them  deploying  in  every  direction  to 
guard  all  the  outlets,  preparatory  to  a  rigid  search  of  every 
species  of  covert  in  which  a  fugitive  could  conceal  himself. 
The  green  meadow  was  dotted  with  clumps  of  bushes,  which 
grew  in  thicker  luxuriance  along  the  little  watercourse ;  and  in 
some  of  these  hiding-places  it  was  obvious  to  the  enemy  that 
their  victim  lay  hidden.  The  prey  was  at  last  hunted  down  ; 
had  taken  to  earth  ;  and  it  was  now  only  necessary  to  beat  the 
undergrowth  with  efficient  diligence  in  order  to  flush  the 
dangerous  game. 

The  hunters  proceeded  to  their  task  with  energy  and  excel 
lent  method.  No  portion  of  the  ground  was  neglected,  and 
their  attention  was  especially  directed  to  the  bushes  along  the 
stream. 

Lying  on  his  back  in  the  dense  jungle,  with  a  cocked  pistol 
in  each  hand,  his  finger  on  the  trigger,  the  scout  listened  with 
ears  rendered  preteruaturally  acute  to  the  cries  and  exclama 
tions  of  his  enemies,  who  moved  up  and  down  the  watercourse, 
and  on  every  hand  searching  every  foot  of  ground  for  their 

prey.  S had  not  wasted  a  moment  in  deciding  upon  his 

plan  of  action  if  discovered  He  was  exhausted,  and  could  no 
longer  fly ;  and  to  be  taken  prisoner  was  not  an  alternative. 
He  would  fight  as  long  as  he  could  stand ;  give  his  enemies 
the  full  benefit  of  the  ten  barrels  of  his  revolvers  at  close  range ; 

32 


498  WEARING-    OF  THE  '  GRAY. 

grapple  with  them  breast  to  breast ;  and  if  he  could  not  fight 
his  way  out — die. 

Such  was  his  plan  ;  and  he  listened  to  the  footsteps  around 
him  with  that  firm  nerve  which  the  brave  man  summons  to 
his  aid  when  face  to  face  with  death. 

The  moment  had  now  come  which  was  to  decide  his  fate. 
The  pursuers  had  searched  every  portion  of  the  field  without 
success,  and  now  returned  to  the  point  from  which  they  had 
set  forth,  subjecting  the  covert  to  a  second  and  more  rigid  in 
spection.  Their  feet  were  heard  trampling  amid  the  under 
growth  ;  they  stopped  to  put  aside  the  bushes,  and  peer  into 

every  nook.  S heard  their  very  breathing,  and  cast  an 

eye  upon  his  pistols  to  see  that  he  had  neglected  nothing ;  that 
every  tube  was  capped,  every  barrel  loaded,  and  both  weapons 
cocked.  All  was  right,  and  he  experienced  the  fierce  joy  of 
the  man  who  feels  that  at  least  he  need  not  die  without  drag 
ging  down  more  than  one  enemy  in  his  fall. 

The  steps  were  at  his  side  ;  oaths  and  exclamations  echoed  in 
his  very  ears.  One  of  the  hostile  party  seemed  determined  to 
leave  no  inch  of  the  ground  unexplored,  and  bent  down,  plung 
ing  his  glances  into  the  very  bushes  over  the  scout's  head. 

S grasped  his  pistols  with  a  firmer  clutch,  strung  his 

nerves  for  instant  contest,  and  prepared  to  rise  suddenly  to 
his  feet,  lay  the  curious  individual  before  him  dead  with  a 
pistol  bullet  through  the  heart,  and  throw  himself  like  a"  tiger 
at  bay  into  the  midst  of  his  enemies. 

The  bushes  were  thrust  aside ;  an  oath  resounded  within 
three  feet  of  him ;  he  had  covered  the  heart  of  his  enemy  with 
the  muzzle  of  his  right-hand  pistol  crossed  over  his  breast — 
when  the  autumn  foliage  swayed  back  to  its  place,  an  excla 
mation  of  disappointment  followed,  and  the  footsteps  retreated 
from  his  hiding-place. 

The  scout  drew  a  long  breath.     He  was  saved. 

All  day  long  he  lay  hidden,  hearing  more  than  one  sound 
which  proved  that  his  enemies  were  still  hovering  near ;  but 
they  had  given  up  the  search  in  despair.  At  night  he  quietly 
rose,  and  found  that  the  coast  was  clear.  Proceeding  cautiously 


HUNTED  DOWN.  499 

to  reconnoitre,  he  discovered  that  the  ground  around  his  hiding- 
place  was  only  partially  guarded,  and  had  little  difficulty  in 
escaping.  Eluding  such  parties  as  were  still  prowling  around, 
he  flanked  the  Federal  pickets,  travelled  all  night,  and  before 
daylight  was  safe  within  the  Southern  lines. 

Such  was  the  narrative  of  S ,  related  to  me  in  my  tent 

on  the  Rapidan.  To  suspect  exaggeration  or  inaccuracy  in  the 
narrator  would  be  to  do  a  brave  and  truthful  soldier  great  in 
justice  ;  and  I  have  recorded  this  true  incident  as  a  veritable 
illustration  of  the  curious  "scout-life"  of  the  war. 


III. 
HOW  S OVERHEARD  HIS  DEATH-WARRANT. 


IN  "  Hunted  Down,"  I  have  attempted  to  give  some  idea  of 
scout  life  on  the  Kappahannock  during  the  late  war.  Another 
narative  of  the  same  description  may  interest  those  readers  who 
relish  wild  adventure;  and  the  present  incident  will  be  found 
more  curious  than  the  former.  It  befell  the  same  personage, 

S ,  one  of  General  Stuart's  scouts,  and  I  again  beg  to  warn 

the  worthy  reader  against  regarding  these  relations  as  fanciful. 
Imagination  has  nothing  to  do  with  this  one ;  if  it  possesses 
no  other  merit,  I  am  sure  it  does  possess  that  of  truth.  It  was 
told  me  by  the  brave  man  whom  it  concerns,  and  I  never  knew 
him  to  boast  or  exaggerate. 

The  incident  took  place  during  the  summer  of  1863,  in  the 
country  beyond  the  Rappahannock,  not  far  from  the  foot  of 
the  Blue  Ridge.  This  region — the  county  of  Fauquier — was  the 
true  Paradise  of  the  scout.  On  its  winding  and  unfrequented 
roads,  and  amid  its  rolling  hills  and  mountain  spurs,  the  scout 
and  ranger  wandered  at  will,  bidding  defiance  to  all  comers. 
The  thick  woods  enabled  him  to  approach  unseen  until  almost 
in  contact  with  the  Federal  parties  or  their  encampments  ;  and 
if  pursued,  he  had  only  to  leap  the  nearest  stonewall,  rush 
under  a  crest  of  a  hill,  and  disappear  like  a  shadow,  or  one  of 
those  phantoms  of  diablerie  which  vanish  in  the  recesses  of 
the  earth.  For  secret  operations  of  every  description,  no  cotm- 


HOW  S OVERHEARD   HIS   DEATH-WARRANT.  501 

try  in  the  world  is  more  favourable  ;  and  the  present  writer  has 
journeyed  by  roads  and  across  fords  in  the  immediate  vicinity 
of  hostile  forces,  by  which  a  column  of  ten  thousand  men 
might  have  moved  with  no  more  difficulty  than  a  solitary  horse 
man.  No  prying  eyes  followed  the  scout  upon  his  way  ;  the 
extensive  uplands  were  pasture  ground  for  grazing  great  herds  of 
cattle.  The  traveller  went  on,  mile  after  mile,  unespied  by  any 
one,  and  in  presence  only  of  tall  forests  and  azure  mountains. 

In  Fauquier,  S had  many  friends  whom  he  was  fond  of 

visiting  on  his  adventurous  excursions ;  but  unfortunately  he 
had  also  a  number  of  enemies  in  the  persons  of  Federal  sol 
diers.  Detached  bodies  of  the  enemy  had  pitched  their  tents 
in  the  region,  and  the  Federal  cavalry  scouted  the  main  roads, 
greatly  harassing  the  inhabitants.  To  harass  their  parties  in 
return  was  the  work  of  the  ranger ;  and  scarce  a  day  passed 
without  some  collision  in  the  extensive  fields  or  the  forest  glades, 
in  which,  on  one  side  or  both,  blood  would  flow. 

Among  the  Federal  forces,  S had  achieved  a  high  repu 
tation  as  a  scout  and  a  partisan  ;  and  had  also  aroused  in  his 
enemies  a  profound  hatred.  His  daring  reconnoissances,  secret 
scouts,  and  audacious  attacks  on  foraging  parties,  had  made 
them  pass  a  lively  time — and  great  was  the  joy  of  a  Federal 
Colonel  commanding  pickets  on  the  upper  Rappahannock 
when  he  received  intelligence  one  day  in  this  summer  of  1863 

that  the  well  known  S was  alone  at  a  house  not  far  from 

camp,  where  his  capture  would  be  easy. 

S was,  in  fact,  at  the  house  indicated,  without  the  least  sus 
picion  that  his  presence  had  been  discovered.  He  had  been  sent 
upon  a  scout  in  that  region,  and  finding  himself  in  the  neigh 
bourhood  of  the  family  with  whom  he  had  long  been  on  terms 
of  intimacy,  embraced  the  occasion  to  visit  them  and  rest  for  a 
few  hours  before  proceeding  upon  his  way.  On  the  evening 
when  the  events  about  to  be  related  occurred,  he  was  seated  in 
the  parlour,  conversing  with  one  of  the  young  ladies  of  the 
family,  and  perfectly  at  his  ease  both  in  body  and  mind.  His 
horse — an  excellent  one,  captured  a  few  days  before  from  the 
enemy — was  in  the  stable,  enjoying  a  plentiful  supply  of  corn ; 


502  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

lie  had  himself  just  partaken  of  a  most  inviting  supper,  to 
which  bright  eyes  and  smiles  had  communicated  an  additional 
attraction  ;  and  ,he  was  now  sitting  on  the  sofa,  engaged  in 
conversation,  not  dreaming  of  the  existence  of  an  enemy  within 

a  thousand  miles.  Let  it  not  be  supposed,  however,  that  S 

was  disarmed  either  of  his  caution  or  his  weapons.  His  eye 
wandered  unconsciously,  from  pure  habit,  every  few  moments 
toward  the  door,  and  around  his  waist  was  still  buckled  the 
well-worn  belt  containing  his  pistols.  These  never  left  his  per 
son  day  or  night  as  long  as  he  was  in  the  vicinity  of  his  enemies. 

Such  was  the  comfortable  and  peaceful  "interiour"  which 
the  mansion  presented  when  the  incident  I  purpose  to  relate 
took  place.  S was  tranquilly  enjoying  himself  in  the  so 
ciety  of  his  kind  hostess,  and  laughing  with  the  light-hearted 
carelessness  of  a  boy  who  finds  a  "  spirit  of  mirth  "  in  every 
thing,  when  suddenly  his  quick  ear  caught  the  clatter  of  hoofs 
upon  the  road  without,  and  rising,  he  went  to  the  window  to 
reconnoitre.  A  glance  told  him  that  the  new-comers  were  the 
enemy  ;  and  the  crack  through  which  he  looked  was  sufficiently 
large  to  enable  him  to  see  that  they  consisted  of  a  detachment 
of  Federal  cavalry,  who  now  rapidly  approached  the  house, 

"With  such  rapidity  did  they  advance,  that  before  S could 

move  they  had  reached  the  very  door  ;  and  no  sooner  had  they 
done  so,  than  at  a  brief  order  from  the  officer  commanding, 
several  men  detached  themselves  from  the  troop,  hurried  to  the 
rear  of  the  house,  and  in  an  instant  every  avenue  of  escape 
was  effectually  cut  off. 

S was  now  fairly  entrapped.  It  was  obvious  that  in 

some  manner  the  enemy  had  gained  intelligence  of  his  presence 
at  the  house,  and  sent  out  a  detachment  for  his  capture  or 
destruction.  The  scout  required  no  better  proof  of  this  than 
the  systematic  manner  in  which  they  went  to  work  to  surround 
the  house,  as  though  perfectly  sure  of  their  game,  and  the 
business-like  method  of  proceeding  generally  on  the  part  of 
the  men  and  officers.  To  meet  this  sudden  and  dangerous 

advance  of  his  foes,  S saw  that  he  must  act  with  rapidity. 

Skill  and  decision  would  alone  save  him,  if  anything  could ; 


HOW  S OVERHEARD   HIS  DEATH-WARRANT.  503 

and  in  a  few  rapid  words  he  explained  the  state  of  affairs.  He 
informed  his  entertainers  that  he  was  the  game  for  whom  they 
were  hunting ;  he  had  heard  that  a  price  was  set  upon  his 
head  ;  if  there  was  no  means  of  leaving  the  house  or  conceal 
ing  himself,  he  did  not  mean  to  surrender;  he  would  not  be 
taken  alive,  but  would  fight  his  way  through  the  whole  party 
and  make  his  escape,  or  die  defending  himself. 

Such  was  the  tenor  of  the  brief  address  made  by  S 

to  his  fair  entertainers ;  but  they  informed  him  in  quick  words 
that  he  need  not  despair,  they  would  conceal  him ;  and  then 
the  brave  hearts  set  to  work.  One  ran  to '  the  window  and 
demanded  who  was  without ;  another  closed  the  door  in  rear, 
the  front  door  being  already  shut ;  and  while  these  movements 

were  in  progress  S was  hurried  up  the  staircase  by  one 

of  the  young  ladies,  who  was  to  show  him  his  hiding-place. 
Before  he  had  reached  the  head  of  the  staircase  a  novel  proof 
was  given  by  the  Federal  cavalry  of  the  terror  which  they 
attached  to  his  name.  A  sudden  explosion  from  without  shook 
the  windows ;  six  or  eight  carbine-balls  pierced  the  front  door, 
passed  through  and  whistled  around  the  ladies ;  and  a  loud 
shout  was  heard,  followed  by  heavy  shoulders  thrust  against 
the  door.  It  was  afterwards  discovered  that  the  rattle  of  the 
door-latch  in  the  wind  had  occasioned  the  volley ;  the  noise 

was  supposed  to  be  that  made  by  S as  he  was  about  to 

rush  out  upon  them  ! 

The  scout  had,  meanwhile,  been  conducted  by  his  fair  guide 
to  his  hiding-place,  which  was  in  a  garret  entirely  destitute  of 
furniture,  with  bare  walls,  and  apparently  without  any  imagin 
able  facility  for  enabling  a  man  to  escape  the  prying  eyes  of 

the  "party  of  observation."  Here,  nevertheless,  S was 

concealed  ;  arid  his  hiding-place  was  excellent,  from  its  very 
simplicity.  The  garret  had  no  ceiling,  and  the  joists  were 
even  unboarded ;  but  upon  them  were  stretched  two  or  three 
loose  planks.  The  young  lady  hurriedly  pointed  to  these. 
S—  -  understood  in  an  instant ;  and,  swinging  himself  up, 
he  reached  the  joist,  lay  down  at  full  length  upon  one  of  the 
planks  next  to  the  eaves,  and  found  himself  completely  pro- 


504  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

tected  from  observation,  unless  the  search  for  him  was  so 
minute  as  to  leave  no  corner  unexplored. 

Having  assisted  the  scout  to  ensconce  himself  in  his  hiding- 
place,  the  young  lady  hastened  down  from  the  garret,  and 
descended  the  main  staircase,  just  as  the  Federal  soldiers  burst 
open  the  front  door  and  swarmed  into  the  passage.  From  the 
plank  beneath  the  eaves,  as  the  door  of  the  garret  had  been 
left  open,  S—  -  informed  me  he  heard  every  word  of  the  fol 
lowing  colloquy : 

"  Where  is  the  guerilla  we  are  after  ?  "  exclaimed  the  officer 
in  command,  sternly  addressing  the  lady  of  the  house. 

"  What  guerilla  ?  "  she  asked.  , 

"S ." 

"  He  was  here,  but  is  gone." 

"That  is  untrue,  and  I  am  not  to  be  trifled  with  !  "  was  the 
irate  reply.  "  I  shall  search  this  house — but  first  read  the 
orders  to  the  men  !  "  he  added,  addressing  a  non-commissioned 
officer  of  the  troop. 

This  command  was  obeyed  by  a  sergeant,  holding  an  official 
paper  in  his  hand ;  and  S —  -  had  the  satisfaction  of  hearing 
read  aloud  a  paper  which  recited  his  various  exploits,  com 
mented  upon  his  character  in  terms  far  from  flattering,  declared 
him  a  bushwhacker  and  guerilla,  and  ordered  him  to  be  put  to 
death  wherever  he  was  found — the  men  being  expressly  for 
bidden  to  take  him  prisoner.  This  order  was  from  Colonel 

,  commanding  the  neighbouring  force,  and  S heard 

every  word  of  it.  He  was  to  be  pistoled  or  sabred.  !N"o  hope 
of  mercy — no  surrender  taken.  Death  to  him  ! 

Peril  unnerves  the  coward,  but  arouses  a  fierce  pride  and 
courage  in  the  breast  of  the  brave,  to  dare  all,  and  fight  to  the 
death.  S was  made  of  the  stuff  which  does  not  cower  be 
fore  danger,  but  enables  a  man  to  look  the  King  of  Terrours  in 
the  face  without  the  shudder  of  a  nerve.  He  was  armed  as 
usual  with  two  pistols  carefully  loaded  and  capped — for  he 
never  neglected  his  arms — and  before  he  was  taken,  or  rather 
killed,  he  hoped  to  lay  low  more  than  one  of  his  assailants. 
This  was  his  calculation ;  but  the  scout  was  still  a  long  way 


HOW  S OVERHEARD  HIS    DEATH-WARRANT.  505 

from  regarding  his  fate  as  sealed,  his  death  as  certain.  He  had 
an  obstinate  faculty  of  hoping,  and  took  the  brightest  view  of 
his  critical  situation.  He  might  not  be  discovered ;  or  if  dis 
covered,  he  was  in  a  position  to  fight  to  an  advantage  which 
would  make  the  issue  of  the  struggle  exceedingly  doubtful. 
He  intended  to  spring  to  the  floor,  shoot  the  one  or  two  men 
who  would  probably  penetrate  to  the  garret,  and  hurl  them 
down  the  staircase — and  then  placing  himself  at  the  head  of  the 
stairs,  sheltered  from  bullets  by  a  projection  of  the  wood-work, 
defy  them  to  ascend.  "  They  never  could  have  got  me  out  of 

there,"  said  S with  a  laugh,  "  unless  they  had  burned  the 

house,  or  brought  a  piece  of  artillery  to  shell  me  out.  I  had 
two  pistols,  and  could  have  held  my  ground  against  the  whole 
of  them  all  day." 

But  not  to  digress  from  the  actual  res  gestce  of  the  occasion, 
the  search  for  S —  -  speedily  commenced.  First  the  parlour 
and  dining-room  were  subjected  to  a  rigid  examination,  and 
finding  there  no  traces  of  the  scout,  the  men  scattered  them 
selves  over  the  house,  ransacking  every  apartment,  and  com 
pelling  the  young  ladies  to  throw  open  the  most  private  recesses 
of  their  chambers.  They  looked  under  beds,  into  closets,  and 
behind  drosses  hanging  up  in  the  wardrobes,  in  vain  search  for 
the  game.  Sabres  were  thrust  into  beds,  to  pierce  and  immo 
late  the  dangerous  wild  animal  if  he  were  lying  perdu  between 
the  mattresses ;  and  the  points  of  the  weapons  did  not  spare  the 
female  clothing  depending  from  pegs  in  the  closets.  The  scout 
might  be  straightened  up  against  the  wall,  behind  those  white 
garments  in  closet  or  wardrobe ;  but  an  assiduous  search  failed 
to  discover  him,  and  soon  no  portion  of  the  whole  establishment 
remained  unexplored  but  the  garret.  To  this  the  party  now 
directed  their  attention. 

"  What  room  is  that  up  there?  "  was  the  curt  question  of  one 
of  the  men  to  the  young  lady  who  stood  near  him. 

"  A  garret,"  was  the  reply. 

"  He  may  be  up  there — show  me  the  way ! " 

"  You  see  the  way— I  do  not  wish  to  go  up  there ;  the  dust 
will  soil  my  dress." 


506  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

A  growl  greeted  these  quiet  words,  and  the  trooper  turned 
to  a  black  servan't-girl  who  had  been  made  to  go  around  with 
the  party  in  their  search,  holding  a  lighted  candle. 

"  You  go  before,  and  show  us  the  way,"  said  the  trooper. 
The  girl  laughed,  declared  that  nobody  was  up  there ;  but  on 
hearing  the  order  repeated,  ascended  the  stairs,  followed  by  the 
man. 

S—  -  had  listened  attentively  and  lost  nothing ;  the  archi 
tecture  of  the  house  enabling  him  to  catch  the  least  sound  with 
out  difficulty.  After  the  protracted  search  in  the  rooms  be 
neath,  during  which  his  hiding-place  had  not  been  approached, 
he  began  to  hope  that  the  danger  was  over.  This  hope,  how 
ever,  was  found  to  be  illusory,  and  he  prepared  for  the  crisis. 

The  steps  of  the  servant-girl  were  heard  ascending,  followed 
by  the  tramp  of  the  trooper,  whose  heavy  sabre  rattled  against 
the  stairs  as  he  moved.  Then  a  long  streak  of  light  ran  over 
the  garret  floor ;  and  cautiously  thrusting  out  his  head  from  his 
hiding-place,  S saw  the  head  of  the  girl  and  her  com 
panion,  as  step  by  step  they  mounted  to  the  apartment.  The 
girl  held  up  her  dress  with  affected  horror  of  the  dust ;  and  when 
she  had  reached  a  position  from  which  a  full  stream  of  light 
could  be  directed  into  the  room,  she  paused,  and  with  a  low 
laugh  called  her  companion's  attention  to  the  fact  that  there 
was  nothing  whatever  in  the  garret. 

This,  however,  did  not  satisfy  him,  and  he  insisted  upon  mak 
ing  a  thorough  search.  The  girl  was  obliged  to  obey  his  order, 
and  in  a  moment  they  were  both  standing  in  the  room. 


II. 

S measured  the  man   before,  or  rather   beneath   him, 

through  a  crevice  in  the  plank,  and  calculated  where  he  could 
shoot  him  to  the  best  advantage.  This  resource  seemed  all  that 
was  left.  Discovery  appeared  inevitable.  The  scout  was  lying 
upon  a  single  plank,  directly  over  the  head  of  his  enemy,  and 
it  was  only  necessary,  apparently,  for  the  latter  to  possess 


HOW   S OVERHEARD    HIS  DEATH-WARRANT.  507 

ordinary  eyesight  to  discover  him.  This  was  the  scout's  con 
viction,  as  he  now  cautiously  moved  his  finger  to  the  trigger  of 
the  pistol,  which  he  had  drawn  and  cocked,  in  expectation  of 
the  coming  struggle.  He  would  certainly  be  discovered  in  ten 
seconds,  and  then  for  an  exhibition  of  his  process  as  a  Confede 
rate  soldier  and  scout,  which  should  either  extricate  him  from 
his  peril,  or  force  his  very  enemies  to  respect  the  courage  of 
the  man  they  overwhelmed  and  put  to  death !  His  plan,  as  I 
have  said,  was  simple.  He  would  throw  himself  upon  this  man, 
shoot  him  through  the  heart,  hurl  the  body  upon  the  heads  of 
those  below,  and  then  hold  his  position  against  the  whole  party 
at  the  pistol's  muzzle.  It  was  improbable  that  the  Federal 
troopers  could  be  induced  to  mount  the  narrow  stairway,  at  the 
head  of  which  stood  at  bay  a  desperate  and  determined  man,, 
armed  with  a  revolver  in  each  hand.  It  would  be  certain  death 
to  them ;  he  must  either  be  burned  out  or  shelled  out  with 
artillery !  That  either  of  these  courses,  however,  would  be 
resorted  to,  appeared  improbable ;  they  would  place  a  guard 
around  the  house,  and  either  starve  or  attempt  to  dislodge  him 
in  some  other  manner.  But  then  he  would  gain  time ;  now  if 
time  were  only  gained,  the  scout  had  so  much  confidence  in  his 
own  resources  that  he  believed  himself  safe. 

To  return  to  the  scene  actually  occurring:  the  Federal 
trooper  gazed  around  the  garret  for  some  hidden  nook  or 
cranny  wherein  a  rebel  could  be  stowed  away.  Some  empty 
boxes  attracted  his  attention,  but  an  examination  of  them 
resulted  in  nothing.  Then,  all  at  once,  the  eyes  of  the  man 
were  directed  toward  the  spot  where  the  scout  was  concealed. 

S—  -  gave  himself  up  for  lost ;  his  finger  was  on  the 
trigger,  and  he  was  about  to  forestall  his  enemy  by  sending  a 
ball  through  his  brain,  when  suddenly  he  drew  a  long  breath, 
removed  his  finger  from  the  trigger,  and  flattened  himself 
almost  to  nonentity  on  his  plank.  The  girl  had  adopted  an 
excellent  ruse,  and  as  simple  as  it  was  excellent.  Whilst  con 
versing  carelessly  with  the  man,  she  had  moved  directly 

beneath  S ,  in  consequence  of  which  movement  the  candle 

threw  the  shadow  of  the  plank  on  which  he  lay  directly  upward. 


508  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

Thus  the  person  of  the  scout,  prone  on  the  plank,  was  wholly 
hidden  from  view.  In  vain  did  the  man  move  from  side  to 
side,  evidently  suspecting  something,  and  order  the  girl  to  hold 
the  light  in  such  a  manner  as  to  illuminate  the  dusky  recess 
beneath  the  rafters.  She  readily  did  so,  but  so  adroitly  that  at 
every  movement  the  shadow  was  made  still  to  conceal  the 
scout ;  and  ere  long  this  comedy,  in  the  issue  of  which  the 
life  of  a  man  was  involved,  came  to  an  end.  Satisfied  that  the 
garret  contained  no  one,  the  man  retired,  and  the  clank  of  his 
sabre  on  the  staircase  as  he  descended  gradually  receded  from 
the  hearing  of  S .  He  was  saved. 

The  Federal  troopers  remained  at  the  house  some  time  longer, 
their  officer  exhibiting  the  utmost  anger  and  disappointment  at 
the  result  of  the  expedition ;  but  they  finally  departed,  warning 
the  lady  of  the  mansion  that  if  she  harboured  "guerillas" 
thereafter,  her  house  would  be  burned.  Leaving  videttes 
behind,  the  officer  then  departed  with  his  detachment. 

This  was  the  signal  for  S to  descend,  which  he  did  at 

once.  A  brief  reconnoissance  through  the  window  revealed 
the  dark  figures  posted  at  stated  intervals  around  the  house — 
but  these  only  made  him  laugh.  He  did  not  fear  them,  and 
had  only  one  regret — the  impossibility  of  getting  his  horse  off. 
The  attempt  would  reveal  his  presence,  involve  the  family  in 
danger,  and  might  fail.  He  accordingly  resolved  to  retire  on 

foot.  This  was  at  once  and  successfully  accomplished.  S 

bade  his  kind  friends  farewell,  stole  out  of  the  back  door,  glided 
along  the  garden  fence,  beneath  the  shadow  of  the  trees,  and 
gained  the  wood  near  by  without  being  challenged. 

In  an  hour  he  was  safe  from  all  pursuit,  at  a  friend's,  on  one 
of  the  spurs  of  the  Blue  Kidge.  Soon  afterwards  he  was  relat 
ing  this  narrative  to  the  present  writer,  near  Orange. 

I  was  interested  in  it,  and  thought  that  the  reader  might 

share  this  interest.  He  knows,  at  least,  how  S overheard 

his  death- warrant. 


IV. 

HOW  S CAPTURED  A  FEDERAL  COLONEL'S 

HAT. 


ANOTHER  adventure  of  S ,  the  scout,  will  be  here  narrated. 

He  related  it  to  me  in  my  tent  near  Orange  more  than  a  year 
ago;  but  the  incidents  come  back,  as  do  many  things  in 
memory — living,  breathing,  real,  as  it  were,  in  the  sunshine  of 
to-day ;  not  as  mere  shapes  and  recollections  of  the  past. 

In  the  summer  of  the  good  year  1863,  S went  with  two 

or  three  companions  on  a  little  scout  toward  Warrenton. 

Do  you  know  the  pretty  town  of  Warrenton,  good  reader  ? 
'Tis  a  delightful  little  place,  full  of  elegant  mansions,  charming 
people,  and  situated  in  a  lovely  country.  Nowhere  are  the 
eyes  of  youthful  maidens  bluer — au  revoir  Hen-tot,  sweet  stars 
of  my  memory! — nowhere  are  truer  hearts,  or  more  open 
hands.  Here  Farley,  the  famous  partisan — one  of  the  friends 
I  loved — used  to  scout  at  will,  and  when  chased  by  his  foes, 
rein  up  his  horse  on  the  suburbs,  and  humorously  fire  in  their 
faces  as  they  darted  in  pursuit  of  him ;  laughing  quietly  with 
that  low  musical  laugh  of  his,  as  his  good  horse  ("  Yankee 
property  "  once)  bore  him  away.  Here  a  friend  of  mine  after 
wards — but  whither  am  I  wandering  ?  See  the  force  of  habit, 
and  the  inveterate  propensity  to  rove  even  on  paper ;  the  result 
of  life  in  the  cavalry !  I  forget  that  another  branch  of  the 
service  now  claims  my  thoughts — that  the  blanket  wrapped  in 
its  "  Yankee  oil-cloth  "  is  rarely  strapped  behind  my  saddle  as 
in  the  good  old  days  when,  following  one  illustrious  for  ever,  I 
knew  not  whither  I  was  going,  where  1  would  stop,  or  what 


510  WEARING    OF   THE    GRAY. 

greenwood  tree  would  shelter  me.  Look  !  the  red  battle-flag 
is  floating  in  the  wind ;  the  column  moves ;  will  we  sleep  in 
Virginia,  Maryland,  or  Pennsylvania?  We  knew  not,  for  the 
cavalry  are  your  true  rovers  of  the  greenwood ;  so  I,  who  once 
was  a  cavalry-man,  rove  still,  even  on  paper. 

I  perceive  I  am  growing  dull.     To  return  to  S and  his 

little  scout  near  Warrenton  in  1863.  I  cannot  fail  to  interest 
then,  you  see,  my  dear  reader ;  for  there  is  a  certain  species  of 
human  interest  in  the  adventures  of  those  who  deal  in 

"  bloody  noses,  and  crack'd  crowns, 
And  pass  them  current  too," 

% 

which  everybody  experiences ;  and  the  relation  of  these  san 
guinary  adventures  demands  very  little  "style."  You  tell 
your  plain  story  as  plainly  as  possible ;  and  behold !  you  secure 
the  luxury  of  luxuries,  a  satisfied  reader. 

S had,  as  I  have  said,  two  or  three  companions  with  him  ; 

and  having  slept  in  the  woods  near  Warrenton,  the  party  pro 
ceeded  toward  Catlett's  in  search  of  adventures.  There  were 
plenty  of  Federal  camps  there,  and  in  the  neighbourhood ;  and 
our  scout  promised  himself  much  amusement.  Behold  them 
then,  full  of  the  spirit  of  fun,  and  intent  on  celebrating  the 
day  by  an  exciting  hunt  which  should  result  in  the  running 
down,  and  killing  or  capturing  of  some  of  the  blue  people. 

They  reached  the  vicinity. of  the  railroad  without  adventures, 
and  then  proceeded  carefully  to  reconnoitre  for  the  camps 
known  to  be  in  that  vicinity.  This  search  was  soon  rewarded. 
Beaching  the  summit  of  a  hill,  where  some  trees  concealed 
them,  but  the  view  was  unobscured,  they  perceived  in  the 
valley  beneath  two  extensive  camps,  one  on  the  right,  the 
other  on  the  left ;  the  Federal  soldiers  lounging  about  in  care 
less  security. 

Here  was  S 's  game  plain  before  him,  and  waiting  as  it 

were  to  be  trapped.  Stragglers  from  Federal  camps — adven 
turous  explorers  of  the  surrounding  country  in  search  of  butter, 
eggs,  or  fowls — these  were  the  favourite  victims  of  the  scout ; 
for  from  such  he  often  obtained  valuable  information,  excellent 


HOW  S CAPTURED  A  FEDERAL  COLONEL'S  HAT.    511 

horses  and  equipments,  and  the  finest  patterns  of  revolvers ; 
all  "articles  in  his  line."  To  lie  in  wait  for  stragglers  or 

others  was  thus  a  very  safe  game ;  but  on  this  occasion  S 

had  loftier  views.  He  had  two  or  three  men  with  him,  tried 
and  trasty  comrades ;  and  with  an  army  of  this  size,  he  felt 
himself  able  to  operate  in  the  open  field  ;  making  up  by  dash 
and  audacity  what  he  lacked  in  numbers. 

Having  thus  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  he  could  effect 
something  important,  the  scout  waited  for  his  opportunity,  and 
this  opportunity  soon  came. 

All  at  once  a  cortege  of  cavalry  was  seen  advancing  along 
the  road  in  the  valley  from  one  camp  in  the  direction  of  the 
other ;  apparently  the  escort  of  some  officer  of  distinction. 
The  party  numbered  at  least  twenty,  and  the  ground  was  un 
favourable  for  a  surprise ;  but  S was  unable  to  resist  the 

temptation  to  attack  them,  and  at  least  throw  them  and  their 
camps  into  confusion — your  true  scout  and  hunter  of  bluebirds 
never  experiencing  greater  pleasure  than  when  he  can  alone, 
or  with  two  or  three  companions,  frighten  and  startle  "  to 

arms  "  a  whole  brigade  or  regiment  of  his  enemies.  S 

accordingly  stole  down  the  hill,  as  much  under  cover  as  possible, 
until  he  reached  the  side  of  the  road  over  which  the  officer 
and  his  escort  were  approaching — then  in  a  few  words  he  ex 
plained  his  design  to  the  others,  and  awaited. 

The  Federal  officer  came  on  in  profound  security,  no  doubt 
considering  himself  as  safe  as  though  at  home  in  his  own  country ; 

when  suddenly,  with  a  yell  that  rang  through  the  hills,  S 

and  his  party  darted  from  their  place  of  concealment,  and 
charged  full  tilt  upon  the  frightened  escort,  firing  on  them  as 
they  charged. 

The  escort  did  not  await  the  shock.  Believing  themselves 
waylaid  by  "  Rebel  cavalry,"  and  doomed  to  certain  destruction 
if  they  remained,  they  turned  their  horses'  heads  and  broke  in 
disorder,  flying  back  to  the  camp  from  which  they  came,  pur 
sued  by  S 's  men. 

Their  commander,  a  Colonel,  acted  with  more  courage.  S 

had  shot  him  through  the  arm,  inflicting  a  dangerous  wound  ; 


512  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

but  he  attempted  to  draw  his  pistol  and  resist,  calling  all  the 

time  to  his  cowardly  escort  to  stand.  S immediately 

closed  in  with  him  and  attempted  to  kill  him,  but  in  this  he 
failed.  The  Colonel's  horse  set  off  at  full  speed  in  the  direction 
of  the  camp,  toward  which  his  rider  had  been  going,  and, 

turning  his  own  horse,  S followed,  yelling  and  firing  his 

pistol  as  he  went. 

The  chase  was  exciting ;  the  situation  altogether  singular. 
The  camp  of  a  whole  brigade  was  directly  in  front,  not  four 

hundred  yards  distant,  and  S was  on  the  heels  of  the 

Colonel,  who  was  already  011  the  outskirts  of  the  encampment. 
The  men  ran  from  their  tents  in  astonishment  and  dismay, at 
the  firing,  persuaded  that  a  whole  regiment  of  Confederate 
cavalry  was  charging ;  and  still  the  Colonel,  like  John  Gilpin 
of  old,  ran  his  race — not  for  "  a  thousand  pounds,"  but  for  a 
more  valuable  stake,  his  life. 

S—  -  did  not  relax  his  gait  or  cease  pursuit.  Now  they 
were  in  the  very  camp ;  the  Colonel  still  dashes  on,  and  the 
scout  still  follows  on  his  track,  firing  as  he  goes.  The  Colonel 
gesticulates  violently,  and  shouts  to  the  men : 

"  Shoot  the  d d  rascal !  shoot  him  !  There's  only  one  of 

them !  " 

S laughs  and  bangs  away  still  with  his  revolver. 

The  Colonel  is  in  a  frenzy  of  rage ;  his  frightened  horse 
shies ;  the  Colonel's  hat  drops,  but  the  owner  cannot  stop  to 
regain  it. 

S throws  himself  from  the  saddle,  picks  up  the  hat,  and 

again  mounts,  laughing. 

But  by  this  time  the  game  was  growing  too  dangerous.  The 
men  had  recovered  from  their  astonishment  and  were  running 
to  their  guns.  S—  —  had  no  desire  to  receive  a  volley  of  mus 
ketry  ;  and,  waving  the  captured  hat  with  one  hand,  fired  his 
last  barrel  with  the  other  at  the  Colonel,  and  then  retreated  at 
a  gallop,  followed  by  a  number  of  musket-balls,  at  which,  how 
ever,  he  only  laughed. 

He  soon  rejoined  his  men,  who  had  pursued  the  escort  into 
the  other  camp  ;  and  then,  as  the  whole  place  was  buzzing  like 


HOW  S CAPTURED  A  FEDERAL  COLONEL'S  HAT.   513 

a  nest  of  hornets,  they  quietly  disappeared  and  were  soon  lost 
in  the  extensive  woods,  where  pursuit  was  impossible. 

What  S did  with  his  hat  I   am  unable   to   say ;   but, 

doubtless,  the  heart  of  some  "  high  Confederate  "  was  charmed 
by  the  offering,  for  mighty  is  the  market  price  of  all  that  comes 
through  the  blockade. 

If  not  thus  disposed  of,  the  trophy  lies  somewhere  hidden 

atnong  the  opima  spolia  of  S ,  to  be  shown  some  day  as  a 

memorial  of  that  gay  adventure  in  the  summer  forests  of  Fau- 
quier. 

33 


V. 

HOW  S-   -  CARRIED  OFF  A  FEDERAL  FIELD- 
OFFICER. 


I  HAVE  not  yet  done  with  S ,  the  scout.      Still  another 

adventure  of  his  comes  back  to  my  memory,  and  this  also 
shall  proceed  to  be  narrated. 

The  chosen  field  for  the  operations  of  the  scout  fraternity 
was,  as  I  have  said,  the  county  of  Fauquier — not  only  because 
the  enemy  frequented  habitually  that  region,  but  from  its  great 
adaptability  to  partisan  manoeuvres.  Behold  now,  in  this 
bloody  year  1863,  our  friend  the  scout  making  a  little  excur 
sion  into  the  Chinquepin  Territory  in  searcli  of  information, 
adventure,  spoils — whatever  is  calculated  to  charm  the  heart 
of  the  free  ranger  of  the  woods.  Mounted  on  a  good  fresh 
horse,  with  pistols  at  side,  and  a  good  stout  heart  to  back  the 
ready  hand,  the  scout  joyfully  set  forth  all  alone  on  his  jour 
ney,  trusting  to  Providence  to  guide  him,  and  to  his  own  skill 
and  courage  for  the  result. 

The  country  swarmed  with  the  enemy ;  and  to  find  out  all  about 
them,  their  strength,  position,  and  probable  designs,  was  the 
main  object  of  S—  -  in  going  on  his  scout.  If,  however,  any 
opportunity  of  striking  a  blow  presented  itself,  he  intended  to 
avail  himself  of  the  "  opening."  As  will  be  seen,  such  oppor 
tunity  did  present  itself,  and  was  promptly  improved. 

The  scout  reached,  without  adventures,  the  vicinity  of  War- 
renton,  and  was  riding  through  a  thick  body  of  woods,  when 
all  at  once,  on  turning  a  bend  in  the  winding  bridle-path,  he 
came  suddenly  upon  a  Federal  Colonel,  followed  by  two  order- 


HOW  S CARRIED   OFF  A  FEDERAL  FIELD-OFFICER.      515 

lies.  The  undergrowth  was  so  thick,  and  the  earth  so  soft,  that, 
he  was  entirely  unaware  of  the  vicinity  of  his  foes,  until  the 
horses'  heads  were  almost  touching. 

For  a  moment  the  opponents  gazed  upon  each  other  motion 
less  and  in  silence.  The  Colonel  and  his  escort  seemed  to  have 
a  dim  impression  that  the  silent  man  before  them  was  a  foe, 

and  g goon  gave  them  good  reason  for  becoming  confirmed 

in  this  opinion.  His  hand  darted  to  his  pistol,  but  for  some 
moments  he  was  unable  to  draw'  it.  The  Colonel  was  busy 
doing  the  same ;  and,  meanwhile,  something  like  the  following 
dialogue  took  place  between  the  opponents : 

COLONEL,  excitedly. — "You  are  a  guerilla?" 

SCOUT,  sternly. — "  Yes,  I  am." 

COLONEL. — "  What  do  you  want  ? " 

SCOUT.—"  You." 

And  with  these  words  S banged  away  with  his  pistol, 

missing  his  aim,  but  causing  the  two  orderlies  to  beat  a  sudden 
and  complete  retreat.  The  Colonel  fired  his  pistol,  anji  then 

turned  his  horse's  head  to  retreat,  but  S was  too  quick  for 

him.  In  an  instant  he  was  beside  his  man,  and  ordered  him 
to  drop  his  pistol  and  surrender.  This  command  was  doggedly 

obeyed;  but  S had  no  sooner  achieved  his  object  than  he 

saw  himself  threatened  with  a  new  danger. 

Horses'  hoofs  were  heard  upon  the  road  behind  him ;  and 
looking  through  an  opening  in  the  trees,  he  saw  a  party  of 
Federal  cavalry,  who  had  no  doubt  been  attracted  by  the  report 
of  his  pistol,  and  were  now  approaching  the  spot  at  a  rapid 
gallop,  evidently  bent  on  ascertaining  the  cause  of  the  firing. 

Not  a  moment  was  to  be  lost.     S saw  his  prize  about  to 

be  snatched  from  him,  and  was  called  upon  to  act  with  rapidity 
and  resolution.  Cocking  his  pistol,  which  he  held  in  his  right 
hand,  he  ordered  his  prisoner  to  refrain  from  any  outcry  on 
peril  of  instant  death ;  and  then  seizing  the  Colonel's  bridle  in 
his  left  hand,  he  put  spur  to  his  horse  and  set  off  at  a  tremen 
dous  gallop — the  prisoner's  horse  galloping  beside  his  own. 

Thus  commenced  the  race  for  life.  The  pursuers  had  evi 
dently  descried  him  and  comprehended  his  intention,  for  they 


516  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

uttered  loud  shouts,  calling  on  him  to  stop  or  they  would 
tire. 

The  scout  laughed  his  grim  laugh.  It  was  probable  that 
such  a  threat  would  influence  him !  He  had  long  cultivated  a 
contempt  for  bullets  issuing  from  carbines  levelled  by  cavalry  ; 
and  if  the  coolest  and  most  experienced  marksmen,  tiring  from 
a  rest,  had  menaced  him,  the  effect  would  have  been  the  same 
with  him.  Even  if  his  soul  had  not  scouted  the  thought,  sur 
render  was  out  of  the  question ;  and,  instead  of  slackening  his 
gait,  he  put  spurs  to  his  horse,  flying  even  faster,  and  carrying 
along  with  him  the  Colonel,  whose  bridle  was  still  grasped  in 
his  inexorable  hand.  % 

The  pursuers  howled  with  rage  and  followed  like  wolves  upon 
his  track.  Every  moment  they  seemed  gaining  on  him,  and  the 
Colonel's  countenance  began  to  indicate  a  lively  anticipation 

of  rescue.  But  to  aid  his  friends  seemed  hopeless.  S 

had  him  completely  in  his  power.  Whenever  he  turned  his 
eyes  toward  the  scout  as  they  sped  on,  the  grim  muzzle  of  a  pis 
tol  met  his  view  ;  and  the  expression  of  the  scout's  countenance 
but  too  plainly  proved  that  he  would  hesitate  at  nothing.  If 

anything  was  certain,  this  was,  that  S had  determined  to 

bring  him  out  of  the  lines  a  prisoner,  or  leave  him  dead; 
and  the  Colonel,  like  an  intelligent  man,  did  not  venture  to 
raise  his  hand,  or  make  any  open  efforts  to  assist  his  friends 
and  effect  his  release. 

The  pursuers  still  thundered  on  the  track  of  the  scout  and 
his  prisoner ;  and  the  two  horsemen  continued  to  fly  at  head 
long  speed.  They  passed  out  of  the  woods  across  an  open 
space,  and  into  the  woods  again.  All  trace  of  a  road,  except  a 
narrow  bridle-path,  was  now  lost,  and  the  trunks  of  the  trees 
grew  so  close  together  that  it  was  difficult  for  the  pursuers  to  fol 
low  them  except  in  single  file.  This  it  was  soon  obvious  they 
were  doing,  for  the  shouts  were  again  close  upon  the  track  of 
the  fugitives ;  and  the  near  approach  of  his  friends  induced  the 
prisoner  to  undertake  a  ruse  on  his  own  part,  to  assist  them  in 
their  exertions. 

This' he  proceeded  to  do  as  follows.     The  wood,  as  I  have 


CARRIED   OFF  A  FEDERAL   FIELD-OFFICER.      517 

said,  was  very  dense,  and  the  trees  so  close  together  as  to  make 
it  difficult  for  S and  his  companion  to  pass  along  the  nar 
row  bridle-path  abreast  between  the  trunks.  On  this  circum 
stance  the  Colonel  based  his  hopes  of  delaying  the  flight  of 

himself  and  S ,  and  thus  giving  time  to  his  friends  to  come 

up. 

They  were  passing  at  this  moment  through  a  very  narrow 
space ;  there  was  scarce  room  for  more  than  a  single  horse ; 
and  on  the  side  of  the  Colonel,  that  is,  the  left  side,  a  stout  tree- 
trunk  made  it  necessary  to  incline  his  horse's  head  to  the  right, 
and  draw  in  his  knee  well  to  the  saddle,  to  avoid  scraping 
against  the  trunk  in  passing.  It  was  the  Colonel's  object  now 

to  pass  to  the  left  of  this  tree ;  and  then  force  S ,  as  he 

passed  on  the  right  of  it,  to  loose  his  hold  of  the  prisoner's  bridle, 
who  might  then  suddenly  check  his  horse,  wheel  round,  and  so 
escape. 

No  sooner  was  this  ruse  determined  on  than  it  was  attempted. 
By  violently  turning  his  horse's  head  to  the  left,  and  digging 
his  right  heel  into  the  animal's  flanks,  tlie  Federal  officer  endea 
voured  to  interpose  the  tree  between  them,  and  so  accomplish 

his  purpose  ;  but  S was  too  quick  for  him.  The  scout  was 

not  one  to  be  outgeneralled  by  so  simple  and  transparent  a 
device.  No  sooner  had  the  Colonel  jerked  his  bridle  to  the  left, 
than  the  scout  counteracted  his  plan  by  still  more  violently 
jerking  it  toward  himself,  and  forcing  the  animal  to  dart  by 
between  himself  and  the  tree,  instead  of  upon  the  opposite  side. 

The  consequence  was,  that  the  Colonel's  knee  crashed  against 
the  trunk ;  his  foot  was  dragged  out  of  the  stirrup,  and*  his  boot 
nearly  torn  from  his  leg,  which  was  painfully  bruised  and  lacer 
ated. 

He  had  no  sooner  regained  his  seat  in  the  saddle  than  the 

low  tones  of  S ,  supported  by  a  levelled  pistol,  were  heard 

warning  him  that  a  repetition  of  that  manoeuvre,  or  any  at 
tempt  to  escape  whatever,  would  be  followed  by  his  instant 
death. 

Having  communicated  this  warning  with  an  accent  of  voice 
that  satisfied  the  listener  that  the  speaker  was  ready,  and  even 


518  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

desirous  to  cany  out  his  threat,  S again  darted  on,  still 

followed  by  the  Federal  cavalry. 

JSTo  further  effort  was  made  by  the  prisoner  to  escape,  and 
the  pursuers  began  gradually  to  relax  the  ardour  of  the  chase ; 
but  all  at  once  a  new  danger  presented  itself.  Directly  in  front 

of  them  was  a  large  camp  ;  and  to  S 's  rapid  questions,  the 

Colonel  replied  that  the  camp  before  them  was  his  own.  Real 
ize  now,  reader,  the  full  comedy  of  the  "  situation."  S—  -  was 
charging  at  a  thundering  gallop  the  camp  of  a  full  Federal  reg 
iment,  with  scores  of  the  men  lounging  about  the  opening  of 
the  tents ;  and  by  his  side,  a  prisoner,  was  the  Colonel  of  the 
regiment,  charging,  somewhat  unwillingly,  with  his  captor ! 
This  is  not  the  fancy  of  a  romance-writer,  inventing  the  oad 
contrasts  of  comedy  for  the  amusement  of  his  readers,  but  an 
occurrence  which  really  took  place  just  as  is  here  stated. 

The  scout  was,  however,  equal  to  the  occasion.  Not  only  did 
he  unhesitatingly  charge  upon  the  camp,  but  through  it.  No 
other  course  was  left ;  but  even  if  the  choice  had  been  possible, 
this — the  boldest — was  the  safest.  It  was  necessary  to  take 
the  enemy  completely  by  surprise ;  and  having  informed  his 
prisoner  that  at  the  first  outcry  which  he  made,  a  pistol  bullet 
would  be  sent  through  his  heart,  he  dug  the  spur  into  his  horse's 
side,  dragged  his  companion  on,  and  before  the  thoughtless 
loungers  of  the  camp  realized  the  truth,  had  darted  through 
unopposed,  and  was  racing  with  his  prisoner  far  beyond  pur 
suit. 

Once  in  the  woods  again,  S was  comparatively  safe. 

There  was  no  cavalry  near,  and  the  slow  infantry  could  not  fol 
low  the  rough  rider  and  his  captive.  To  the  latter  S now 

coolly  turned,  and  demanded  his  name  and  regiment.  The  reply 
was  a  sullen  refusal  to  give  the  required  information,  and  the 
scout  saw  that  "  coercion  "  was  absolutely  necessary  to  attain 
his  object.  He  accordingly  crossed  the  pistol  which  he  held  in 
his  right  hand  in  front  of  his  breast,  covered  the  prisoner's 
heart,  and  said  politely  : 

"  Colonel,  I  asked  you  your  name,  and  the  number  and  State 
of  your  regiment." 


HOW  S CARRIED   OFF   A  FEDERAL  FIELD-OFFICER.      519 

"  I  refused  to  give  it." 

"  If  you  do  not,  I  will  kill  you." 

This  response  admitted  of  no  reply.  The  officer  looked  at 
his  captor,  saw  that  he  was  quite  in  earnest,  and  replied : 

"  My  name  is  Colonel ,  and  my  regiment  is  the 

Pennsylvania." 

"All  right,  Colonel ;  I  see  we  understand  each  other.  Now  I 
wish  you  would  tell  me  anything  you  know  that  will  interest 
me." 

And  laughing  in  his  low  fashion,  the  scout  rode  on  with  his 
prisoner,  whose  good-humour  gradually  began  to  return.  To 

explain  this,  it  may  be  conjectured  that  S had  not  upon 

this  occasion  encountered  a  very  desperate  son  of  Mars,  but  a 
philosopher  who  contemplated  the  probabilities  of  an  early 
exchange,  and  submitted  gracefully  to  his  fate.  In  an  hour  the 
scout  and  his  prisoner  had  become  quite  sociable. 

"That  was  a  daring  act  of  yours,"  said  the  Colonel,  "and 
you  have  got  out  of  this  thing  well." 

/"I  rather  think  so,  Colonel." 

"  I  ought  to  have  been  more  on  my  guard.  Well  done — 
yes,  very  well  done!  especially  going  through  my  camp  ! " 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  two  had  grown  quite  friendly,  and 

this  amicable  understanding  continued  uninterrupted.  S 

had  long  since  returned  to  the  black  leather  holster  that  impo 
lite  instrument  first  directed  at  his  companion's  breast,  and  they 
rode  on  together  in  the  friendliest  manner  imaginable,  still 
keeping  in  the  woods.  • 

Night  thus  surprised  them  ;  and  no  house  being  visible,  a 
proceeding  took  place  which  will  seem  to  display  the  entente 

cordiale  between  S and  his  companion.  They  were  both 

sleepy ;  they  determined  to  bivouac ;  and  the  scout  simply  took 
his  prisoner's  parole  not  to  attempt  escape.  Five  minutes 
afterwards  they  were  sleeping  side  by  side. 

Rising  at  daylight,  they  proceeded  on  their  way,  and  in  a 

few  hours  S was  within  the  Confederate  lines  with  his 

prisoner. 


VL 

AN  ADVENTURE  WITH  THE  "BLUEBIRDS." 


S is  a  scout  who  has  had  many  very  curious  adventures,  as 

the  narratives  already  laid  before  the  reader  will  serve  to  show. 
"  He  is  not  a  "  man  of  peace,"  nor  is  his  life  a  tranquil  one. 
While  you,  my  dear  quiet  citizen,  have  been  sleeping  in  your 
comfortable  bed,  with  the  curtains  drawn  and  the  firelight  shin 
ing  on  Brussels  carpeting  and  mahogany  furniture,  or  luxu 
riously  stretching  out  your  slippered  feet  toward  the  fender  in 
the  breakfast-room,  as  you  glance  over  the  morning  papers 
before  going  to  your  cent,  per  cent,  employments  down  town  ; 
while  you  have  been  thus  agreeably  engaged,  not  knowing 
what  it  is  to  wear  a  soiled  shirt  or  miss  a  meal,  or  suffer  from 

cold  or  fatigue,  S has  been  in  the  saddle,  hungry,  weary, 

exposed  to  rain  and  snow  and  storm,  hunting  Bluebirds. 

Bluebird  hunting  is  not  a  remunerative  employment  in  a 
pecuniary  point  of  view,  but  it  has  its  attractions.  You  don't 
realize  a  hundred  per  cent,  profit,  and  you  run  some  risk ;  but  the 
blood  flows  faster  and  much  more  gloriously  through  the  veins 
than  in  trade,  to  say  nothing  of  the  "  fuller  life"  it  communi 
cates  to  all  the  faculties.  But  this  is  not  denied.  I  proceed  to 

give  a  brief  account  of  a  recent  scout  which  S made  into 

the  Federal  lines : 

One  fine  summer  day  in  1863  he  took  four  men,  made  his 
way  unperceived  across  the  Rappahannock,  and  soon  reached 
the  neighbourhood  of  Warrenton.  Leaving  that  place  to  his 
left,  he  struck  out  with  his  party  for  the  railroad,  and  coming 


AN  ADVENTURE  WITH  THE   "BLUEBIRDS."  521 

near  a  Federal  camp,  placed  his  four  men  in  ambush,  and  tak 
ing  a  position  on  the  road,  awaited  the  appearance  of  some  prey. 
He  had  not  waited  long  when  a  stray  Federal  cavalry-man  came 

along,  and  seeing  S dressed  in  a  blue  overcoat  and  Federal 

accoutrements  generally,  had  no  fear  of  him.  His  confiding 
simplicity  was  his  ruin.  When  he  had  come  within  a  few 

yards  S "  put  his  pistol  on  him,"  in  military  parlance,  and 

took  him  prisoner,  calling  one  of  his  men  from  the  woods  to 
take  charge  of  him.  The  captive  had  scarcely  been  conducted 
into  the  underwood  when  two  others  appeared,  coming  from 

the  same  direction,  and  S determined  to  capture  these  also. 

He  called  to  the  man  who  had  taken  charge  of  the  prisoner ; 
but  that  worthy  was  too  busy  rifling  the  unfortunate  bluebird, 

and  did  not  hear.  S then  resolved  to  capture  the  two  new 

cavalry-men  by  himself.  He  accordingly  advanced  toward 
them,  when  suddenly  another  came  out  of  the  woods  and  joined 
them,  making  three.  He  still  designed  attacking  them,  when 
another  appeared,  making  four ;  and  as  these  now  approached 

S they  suddenly  drew  their  pistols,  and  levelling  them, 

ordered  him  to  surrender.  He  was  within  five  feet  of  them, 
holding  his  pistol  in  his  hand,  and  said  coolly : 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  We  mean,"  said  the  men,  "  that  you  are  a  guerilla,  and  you 
are  our  prisoner." 

"  I  am  no  guerilla,"  was  the  reply. 

"  What  do  you  belong  to  ? " 

"  The  First  New  Jersey." 

"  Who  commands  it  ?  " 

"  Major  Janaway." 

"  Eight.     Who  commands  the  brigade  ?  " 

"  Colonel  Taylor." 

"  Eight  again.     Where  is  it  stationed  ?  " 

"  In  the  edge  of  Warrenton." 

"  Yes.     Who  commands  the  division  ?  " 

"Look  here,"  said  S ,  who  was  thoroughly  acquainted 

with  every  part  of  his  r6U,  "  I  am  tired  of  your  asking  me  so 
many  questions  ;  but  I  will  answer.  The  First  New  Jersey  is  in 


522  WEARING  OF  THE  GRAY. 

Taylor's  brigade,  Gregg's  division,  and  Pleasanton  commands 
the  whole.  I  belong  to  the  regiment,  and  am  no  guerilla." 

"  He's  all  right,  boys,"  said  one  of  the  men  ;  "  let  him  go." 

"  No,"  said  another ;  "  I  saw  him  capture  one  of  our  men  ten 
minutes  ago." 

"You  are  mistaken,"  said  S . 

"  You  are  a  guerilla !  "  exclaimed  the  man. 

"  And  how  do  I  know  you  are  not  guerillas?"  said  S ; 

"  you  have  on  blue  coats,  but  let  me  see  your  pantaloons." 

They  raised  their  coat-skirts  and  showed  their  blue  regulation 
pantaloons. 

"  Now  show  yours,"  they  said. 

S had  foreseen  this,  and  readily  exhibited  his  own,  which 

were  those  of  a  Federal  officer. 

"  He's  one  of  our  officers,  boys,"  said  the  former  spokesman. 

"  Yes,  I  am,"  said  S ,  "  and  I'll  report  you  all  for  this 

conduct." 

u  None  of  your  talk,"  said  the  incredulous  cavalry -man.  "  I 
know  you  are  a  guerilla,  and  you've  got  to  go  with  us." 

"  Yery  well,"  returned  S ;  "  the  picket  post  is  just  down 

the  road.  I'll  take  you  there  and  convince  you." 

"  All  right,"  was  the  reply ;  and  they  ranged  themselves,  two 
on  each  side,  with  drawn  pistols,  and  all  rode  back. 

S now  saw  that  it  was  neck  or  nothing.  If  he  was  con 
ducted  to  the  picket  he  knew  that  his  real  character  would  be 
discovered,  his  fate  be  a  stout  rope  and  a  short  shrift,  and  that 
his  body  would  soon  be  dangling  from  a  tree  as  a  warning  to 
all  spies.  Pie  accordingly  watched  his  chance,  and  suddenly 
crossing  his  pistol  over  his  breast,  shot  the  man  on  his  left 
through  the  back ;  a  second  shot  wounded  a  horse  on  his 
right ;  and  all  four  shot  at  him  so  close  that  their  pistols  nearly 
touched  him.  Strange  to  say,  not  a  ball  struck  him. 

He  then  turned  his  horse  and  dashed  back  until  he  was  op 
posite  the  point  where  his  men  were  concealed,  when  he 

wheeled  round,  and  they  all  stopped  suddenly.  S coolly 

crossed  his  leg  over  the  pommel  of  his  saddle,  covered  them 
with  his  pistol,  and  said  : 


.  AN  ADVENTURE  WITH  THE    "  BLUEBIRDS."  523 

"  Now  come  on,  you  cowardly  rascals  !  Charge  me  if  you 
dare  !  I'm  certain  of  two  of  you." 

They  remained  consulting  hurriedly  within  fifteen  steps  of 
him  for  some  minutes,  and  then  turned  round  and  rode  back. 
They  had  not  gone  fifty  yards,  however,  when  shame  seemed 
to  overcome  them ;  and  whirling  round,  the  three  who  were 
unwounded  charged  him,  firing  as  they  came  with  their  pistols. 

S charged  forward  to  meet  them,  emptying  his  barrels  in 

quick  succession  ;  and  the  whole  party  turned  their  horses  and 

fled  down  the  road,  S pursuing  them  with  shouts,  and  firing 

upon  them  until  they  had  reached  their  picket  post. 

Such  was  S 's  curious  adventure.  There  is  no  reason  to 

doubt  it.  Every  army  contains  brave  men  and  faint  hearts. 
S seems  to  have  encountered  the  latter. 


PART  V. 

LATTER    DAYS. 


I. 

ON  THE  ROAD  TO  PETERSBURG. 


i. 

NOTES    OF    AN    OFFICER   OF   THE    C.    S.    A. 

So  June  wears  on  in  this  good  or  bad  year  1864,  and  our  friend 
General  Grant  is  leaving  Cold  Harbour  for  a  "new  base,"  I 
think. 

He  has  had  a  hard  time  of  it  since  he  crossed  the  Rapidan, 
and  we  also  ;  fighting  in  the  Wilderness,  (I  came  near  "  going 
under  "  there)  ;  fighting  at  Spotsylvania  Court-House  (our  Po 
is  more  famous  now  than  the  classic  stream  of  Yirgil) ;  fighting 
on  the  Xorth  Anna,  a  maiden  who  stretched  her  arms  between 
the  fierce  combatants  and  commanded  the  peace ;  fighting  on 
the  slopes  of  Hanover,  when  that  Indian  girl,  the  Tottapotamoi, 
did  the  same ;  and  then  fighting  here,  how  fiercely !  on  the 
famous  ground  of  old  Cold  Harbour,  where  the  thunder  of  the 
guns  has  seemed  to  many  like  an  echo  of  those  guns  of 
McClellan,  which  made  such  a  racket  hereabouts  in  June,1862, 
just  two  years  since  ! 

A  good  many  things  have  happened  since  that  period,  but  we 
remain  more  faithful  to  our  first  loves  than  the  blue  people. 
Then  the  Federal  commander-in- chief  was  called  McClellan — 
now  he  is  called  Grant.  The  leader  of  the  South  was  then 
called  Lee,  and  Lee  is  his  name  to-day.  But  each  seems  to 
have  a  constant,  never-faltering  attachment  for  the  "  good  old 
place,"  Cold  Harbour,  just  as  they  appear  to  have  for  the  bloom 
ing  parterres  of  the  beautiful  and  smiling  Manassas  !  The  little 
affair  near  Stone  Bridge,  in  July,  1861,  was  not  sufficient ;  again 


528  WEARING    OF    THE    GRAY. 

in  August,  1862,  the  blue  and  gray  lovers  of  the  historic  locality 
must  hug  each  other  in  the  dear  old  place  !  "  Malbrook  s'en 
va-t  en  guerre,"  to  the  old  tune  on  the  old  ground  ! 

The  game  is  played  here  for  the  present,  however.  Every 
assault  upon  the  Confederate  lines  has  been  repulsed  with  heavy 
loss,  and  Grant  has  evidently  abandoned  any  further  attempt 
to  storm  them  ;  he  is  moving  toward  James  river.  The  fight 
ing  has  been  heavy,  incessant,  deadly.  Wind,  rain,  sunshine, 
heat,  cold,  nothing  has  stopped  it.  But  the  Southern  lines  have 
stood  intact ;  so  the  war  goes  elsewhere.  It  is  escorted  on  its 
way,  as  usual,  with  a  salute. 

This  morning  a  decided  racket  is  going  on.  Boom !  boom  1 
whiz-z-z-z !  pow-w-w-w !  there  is  a  shell  which  has  burst  near 
me.  Won't  our  friends  across  the  way  permit  an  inoffensive 
Confederate  to  smoke  his  pipe  in  peace,  without  disturbance 
from  these  disgusting  visitors?  I  have  just  dined  on  an  in 
finitesimal  ration,  and  am  smoking  peaceably  when  my  reverie 
is  thus  invaded.  That  shell,  which  in  bursting  has  raised  a 
little  cloud  of  dust,  might  have  hurt  me ;  it  has  interrupted 
me.  Why  do  they  fire  so  high,  and  why  at  me  f  I  am  not 
a  general.  My  flag  is  not  up.  I  am  not  even  fighting  to-day. 
I  am  smoking,  and  indulging  no  sort  of  spite  against  anybody. 
I  am  thinking  of  some  scenes  and  faces  an  enormous  distance 
from  this  spot,  and  am,  in  every  sense  of  the  words,  "  off  duty." 
It  is  pleasure,  not  duty,  which  enthralls  me.  Recreation,  not 
work,  is  my  programme  for  the  nonce.  Respect,  my  friends, 
the  rights  of  a  neutral  and  non-combatant! 

The  cannonade  continues.  They  are  having  a  hot  artillery 
skirmish  yonder,  but  I  go  on  smoking  without  much  excitement 
thereat,  being  used  to  it.  The  time  was  when  we  fought 
pitched  battles  once  or  twice  a  year,  killed  each  other  all  day 
long  secundem  artem,  and  then  relapsed  into  gentlemanly  re 
pose  and  amity,  undisturbed  save  by  the  petite  guerre  of  the 
pickets.  At  that  remote  period,  the  present  elderly,  battered, 
and  unexcitable  w.arrior,  used  to  rush  "  to  horse  "  at  the  first 
roar  of  the  cannon  ;  for  the  roar  in  question  preceded  a  general 
and  decisive  engagement,  in  which  every  man  ought  to  be  "  on 


ON   THE   ROAD  TO   PETERSBURG.  529 

hand.''  Now  we  have  changed  all  that,  or  rather  the  enemy 
have.  Once,  under  McClellan,  they  seemed  only  bent  on  fight 
ing  big  battles,  and  making  a  treaty  of  peace.  Now  they  seem 
determined  to  drive  us  to  the  last  ditch,  and  into  it,  the  mother 
earth  to  be  shovelled  over  us.  Virginia  is  no  longer  a  battle 
field,  but  a  living,  shuddering  body,  upon  which  is  to  be  in 
flicted  the  immedicdbile  vulnus  of  all-destroying  war.  So  be 
it ;  she  counted  the  cost,  and  is  not  yet  at  the  last  ditch. 

All  that  talk  about  immedicable  wounds  and  last  ditches^has 
diverted  me  from  the  contrast  I  was  drawing  between  the  past 
and  present.  Then,  1  meant  to  say,  I  always  started  up  at  the 
cannon's  roar,  expecting  a  decisive  battle ;  now,  so  incessant 
and  so  indecisive  is  the  fighting,  I  lie  under  my  tree  and  smoke, 
and  dream  of  other  scenes,  scarcely  conscious  that  those  guns 
are  thundering  yonder,  and  that  many  a  brave  fellow  is  utter 
ing  his  last  groan.  Thus  we  harden.  Do  I  think  of  "those 
blue  eyes  ? "  Well,  the  comrade  dying  yonder  thinks  of  the 
pair  he  knows.  Poor  fellow  !  then  I  return  to  my  reverie. 

The  war  grows  tedious  ;  carnage  bores  one.  "  Bores  ! ! !  " 
This  is,  I  think,  about  the  fortieth  day  of  fighting.  We  had 
the  "  seven  days'  battles  around  Richmond  "  in  1862.  Is  this 
campaign  to  be  the  "  seventy  days'  battles  around  Virginia  ?  " 
The  game  keeps  up  with  wonderful  animation ;  guns  roaring, 
shell  bursting,  and  listen  !  that  long,  sustained,  resolute  crash 
of  the  deadly  small-arms  !  Suddenly  it  stops  ;  but  a  good  many 
brave  fellows  have  "gone  under"  in  that  five  minutes'  work. 
This  takes  place  at  all  hours  of  the  day  and  night.  Grant  keeps 
"pegging  away."  To-day  he  seems  to  gain  something,  but 
to-morrow  Lee  stands  like  a  lion  in  his  path,  and  all  the  advan 
tage  is  lost.  We  continue  to  repulse  every  attack  along  the 
bristling  lines,  as  in  1862.  Grant  ends  where  McClellan  began ; 
upon  the  ground  at  least.  We  hold  our  own.  "  Lee's  army 
is  an  army  of  veterans,"  writes  the  correspondent  of  a  Northern 
journal ;  "  it  is  an  instrument  sharpened  to  a  perfect  edge. 
You  turn  its  flanks ;  well,  its  flanks  are  made  to  be  turned. 
This  effects  little  or  nothing.  All  that  we  can  reckon  as  gained, 
therefore,  is  the  loss  of  life  inflicted  on  the  enemy,  and  of  having 

34 


530  WEARING   OF   THE  GRAY. 

reached  a,  point  thus  near  the  objective,  but  no  brilliant  military 
results."  Candid  and  true.  They  lose  more  heavily — the  enemy 
— than  we  do,  but  our  precious  blood  flows  daily.  Poor  Char 
ley !  A  braver  soul  was  never  born  into  this  world  than 

his ;  and,  since  something  happened  to  him,  he  has  been  quite 
reckless.  He  is  dead  yonder,  on  the  slopes  of  Hanover,  lighting 
his  guns  to  the  last.  And  that  greater  figure  of  Stuart ;  he  has 
fallen,  too  !  How  lie  would  have  reigned,  the  King  of  Battle, 
in  this  hot  campaign,  clashing  against  the  hosts  of  Sheridan  in 
desperate  conflict !  What  deathless  laurels  would  he  have  won 
for  himself  in  this  hurly-burly,  when  the  war  grows  rnad  and 
reckless !  But  those  laurels  are  deathless  now,  and  bloom  in 
perennial  splendour!  Stuart  is  dead  at  the  Yellow  Tavern 
yonder,  and  sleeps  at  Hollywood  ;  but  as  the  dying  Adams  said 
of  Jefferson,  he  "still  lives" — lives  in  every  heart,  the  greatest 
of  the  Southern  cavaliers  !  His  plume  still  floats  before  the 
eyes  of  the  gray  horsemen,  and  "  history  shall  never  forget  him  I " 
There  was  Gordon,  too — alive  but  the  other  day,  now  dead 
and  gone  whither  so  many  comrades  have  preceded  him.  He 
fell  in  that  same  fierce  onslaught  on  the  enemy's  cavalry,  when 
they  tried  to  enter  Richmond  by  the  Brook  road,  in  that  sud 
den  attack  which  saved  the  capital.  "  I  blamed  Stuart  once 
for  his  reckless  attack  with  so  small  a  force  as  he  then  had  on 
so  large  a  one  as  the  enemy's,"  said  a  most  intelligent  gentle 
man  of  the  neighbourhood  to  me  not  long  since  ;  u  but  now  I 
know  that  he  proved  himself  here,  as  everywhere,  the  great 
soldier,  and  that  he  thereby  saved  Richmond."  And  the  gal 
lant  Gordon  !  how  well  I  knew  him,  and  how  we  all  loved  him  ! 
Tall,  elegant  in  person,  distinguished  in  address,  with  a  charm 
ing  suavity  and  gaiety,  he  was  a  universal  favourite.  Of 
humour  how  rich  !  of  bearing  how  frank  and  cordial !  of  cour 
age  how  stern  and  obstinate !  Under  fire,  Gordon  was  a  per 
fect  rock;  nothing  could  move  him.  In  camp,  off  duty,  he 
was  the  soul  of  good-fellowship.  His  bow  and  smile  were  inimi 
table,  his  voice  delightful.  He  would  present  a  bouquet  to  a 
lady  with  a  little  speech  which  nobody  else  could  approach  ; 
and,  at  the  head  of  the  "  Old  First "  North  Carolina  cavalry, 


ON  THE   ROAD  TO   PETERSBURG.  531 

he  would  have  charged  McOlellan'a  massed  artillery  at  Malvern 
Hill.  We  used  to  tell  him  that  his  rapid  rise  to  the  rank  of 
General  was  the  result  of  his  "  personal,  political,  and  pecuni 
ary  position ;"  but  that  alliterative  accusation  was  only  a  jest. 
He  won  his  rank  by  hard  fighting  and  hard  work;  he  gave  the 
South  all  he  had — his  time,  his  toil,  his  brain  ;  she  demanded 
his  life,  and  he  gave  that,  too,  without  a  murmur.  Peace  to 
that  brave ! 

These  memories  seduce  me.  I  am  getting  triste — blue.  I 
do  not  like  blue,  having  so  many  disagreeable  associations  con 
nected  with  it ;  I  prefer  gray.  Blue  eyes  and  blue  skies  are 
exceptions,  however.  I  diifer  with  General  Henry  A.  Wise, 
who  said  to  me  once,  "I  like  a  gray  day"  Hurrah  for  the 
sunshine,  and  up  with  the  flag  that  has  "  Vive  la  joie  !  "  for  its 
motto.  We  need  all  the  sunshine  and  gaiety  that  is  attainable, 
for  whatever  may  be  thought  of  our  friend  General.  Ulysses 
Grant's  genius  as  a  soldier,  he  allows  the  gray  people  very 
little  time  for  relaxation  or  amusement.  I  think  McClellan  is 
the  better  general,  but  the  present  generalissimo  does  "  keep 
pegging  away  "  with  unusual  regularity  !  There  is  another  roar ; 
but  the  artillery  fire  has  slackened.  Now  the  sound  13  heard 
only  at  intervals.  The  desultory  "  wood-chopping"  of  the  sharp 
shooters  comes  from  the  woods  and  gradually  recedes.  Grant 
is  moving. 


II. 


We  strike  tents,  shoulder  arms — I  do  not,  I  only  buckle  on  a 
sabre — cross  the  Chickahominy,  and  take  up  the  line  of  march 
for  the  James  river — hungry. 

A  tedious  march  down  the  right  bank  of  the  "Swamp,"  into 
the  low  grounds  of  Charles  City,  everywhere  facing  Grant; 
line  of  battle ;  fighting  on  the  long  bridge  road ;  men  throw 
ing  up  earthworks  with  their  bayonets  in  twenty  minutes, 
whenever  they  stop;  sun  rising  and  setting;  wind  blowing; 
woods  reverberating  with  shots ;  column  still  moving  toward 


532  WEARING   OF   THE   GRAY. 

James  river.  Then  the  question  is  settled ;  General  Grant  is 
going  to  try  the  Petersburg  line  of  advance  on  Richmond,  with 
his  base  at  City  Point. 

Judicious !  General  Lee  said  a  year  ago,  I  am  told,  that  this 
was  the  quarter  from  which  Richmond  was  most  exposed.  That 
terrible  question  of  our  "  communications" — the  Southern  rail 
roads  !  After  all,  it  is  bread  and  meat  which  will  decide  this 
war,  or  rather,  I  am  afraid,  the  want  of  it.  The  granaries  of 
the  Gulf  States  are  full,  and  we  are  starving.  Who  is  to  blame  ? 
History  will  answer  that  question.  The  time  will  come  when 
the  survivors  of  this  army,  or  their  children,  will  know  why 
we  are  left  to  starve  upon  a  microscopic  ration — "  so-called  "— 
of  meat,  which  just  enables  a  man  to  carry  a  musket  and  car 
tridge-box  without  staggering  and  falling  upon  the  march, 
or  in  battle,  from  exhaustion  !  Some  day  we  will  know  that ; 
meanwhile  we  go  on  starving,  and  try  to  do  the  work.  Close 
up! 

Over  James  river  above  Drury's  Bluff — not  "  Fort  Darling,'' 
nobody  ever  heard  of  that  place — on  pontoons.  The  artillery 
moves  on  all  night ;  I  and  the  most  amiable  of  Inspector-Gene 
rals  bivouac  with  saddles  for  pillows  in  a  clover-field.  We 
have  just  passed  an  ancient-looking  house,  but  seeing  no 
light,  forebore  from  arousing  the  lady  of  the  establishment, 
preferring  to  sleep  al  fresco,  by  the  camp-fire.  Yonder,  through 
the  gloaming,  as  I  lie  on  my  red  blanket — from  Chancellors- 
ville — with  feet  to  the  rail  fire,  and  my  head  on  my  English 
saddle,  as  I  smoke — not  after  supper — yonder  I  see  the  old 
house.  It  is  not  a  very  imposing  place.  Set  upon  a  handsome 
hill,  amid  waving  fields,  above  the  James,  nearly  opposite  the 
Randolph  house  of  "  Wilton,"  it  would  be  attractive  in  "  good 
times."  But  now  it  is  pulled  to  pieces  and  dust-covered.  For 
the  cannon  of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  have  rolled  by 
the  door  hour  after  hour,  and  the  trampling  hoofs  of  the  cavalry 
have  raised  clouds  of  dust,  hanging  on  the  trees  and  walls. 
House,  out-buildings,  fences  (broken  down),  grass-plat,  box-rows 
— all  disappear  under  the  cloud.  Dust  is  king  there.  We  drop 
asleep  with  rosy  visions  ;  for,  in  passing  the  house,  an  Ethiopian 


ON  THE   ROAD  TO   PETERSBURG.  533 

friend  named  Richard,  who  subsequently  kindled  our  rail  fire 
for  us,  promised  us  breakfast,  We  rise  at  dawn,  repair  to  the 
establishment,  make  our  toilets  (I  always  carry  soap,  brush,  and 
towel  in  my  haversack),  and  are  shown  into  the  drawing-room, 
to  which  the  ladies  have  not  descended,  though  they  have  sent 
polite  messages  touching  breakfast. 

It  is  with  real  historic  interest  that  I  gaze  upon  this  old 
mansion.  For  this  is  "  Ampthill,"  the  former  residence  of  the 
famous  Colonel  Archibald  Gary  of  the  first  Revolution — the 
man  of  the  low  stature,  the  wide  shoulders,  the  piercing  eyes, 
and  the  stern  will.  He  was  of  noble  descent,  being  the  heir 
apparent  to  the  barony  of  Hunsdon  when  he  died ;  sat  in  the 
Virginia  Convention  of  1776 ;  lived  with  the  eyes  of  his  great 
contemporaries  fixed  on  him — with  the  ears  of  George  Wash 
ington,  Thomas  Jefferson,  and  George  Mason,  listening  to  hear 
him  speak,  and  was  the  sort  of  man  who  will  "  stand  no  non 
sense."  When  the  question  of  appointing  Patrick  Henry 
Dictator  was  agitated,  Gary  said  to  Henry's  brother-in-law, 
"  Sir,  tell  your  brother  that  if  he  is  made  Dictator,  my  dagger 
shall  be  in  his  breast  before  the  sunset  of  that  day !  "  There 
spoke  "Gary  of  Ampthill,"  as  they  used  to  call  him — a  man 
who  religiously  kept  his  word,  saying  little  and  performing 
much.  Hardest  of  the  hard-headed,  in  fact,  was  this  Ampthill 
Gary,  and  his  contemporaries  nicknamed  him  "  Old  Iron" 
therefor.  He  played  a  great  part  in  old  times — he  is  dead  in 
this  good  year  1864,  many  a  long  day  ago — but  this  is  his 
house.  Looking  around  at  the  wainscoted  walls,  the  ample 
apartments,  and  with  a  view  of  the  extensive  out-buildings 
through  the  window,  I  come  to  the  conclusion  that  those  old 
Virginians  had  a  tolerably  good  idea  of  "  how  to  live."  Here 
is  a  house  in  which  a  reasonable  individual  could  be  happy, 
provided  he  had  a  pleasing  young  personage  of  the  opposite 
sex  to  assist  him.  Woodwork  to  the  ceiling ;  wide  windows ; 
trees  waving  without,  and  green  fields  stretching  far  away  to 
the  horizon ;  pure  airs  from  the  river  fanning  the  cheek,  and 
moving  gently  the  bright  plumage  of  the  singing  birds  perched 
amid  the  rustling  foliage — Gary  of  Ampthill  must  surely  have 


534  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

"been  a  gentleman  of  taste.  Is  that  him  yonder,  sitting  on  the 
porch  and  reading  his  old  blurred  "  Virginia  Gazette"  con 
taining  the  announcement  of  the  proposed  passage  of  a  Stamp 
Act  in  the  English  Parliament?  That  must  be  "Old  Iron." 
He  wears 'ruffles  at  his  breast,  knee-breeches,  a  coat  with  barrel 
sleeves  covered  with  embroidery,  a  pigtail,  and  a  cocked  hat. 
His  shoulders  are  broad,  his  frame  low,  his  eye  piercing — and 
I  think  he  is  swearing  as  he  reads  about  the  doings  of  parlia 
ment.  He  has  apparently  just  returned  from  inspecting  the 
blood-horses  in  his  stables,  and  after  taking  his  morning  julep, 
is  reading  the  Gazette*  and  pondering  on  the  probable  results 
of  secession  from  England,  with  the  sword  exercise  which  is 
sure  to  follow.  But  look !  he  raises  his  head.  A  gun  sounds 
from  down  the  river,  reverberating  amid  the  bluffs,  and  echoing 
back  from  the  high  banks  around  "  Wilton,"  where  his  friend 
Mr.  Randolph  lives.  It  must  be  the  signal  of  a  ship  just 
arrived  from  London,  in  this  month  of  June,  1764;  the  Fly- 
by-Night,  most  probably,  with  all  the  list  of  articles  which 
Colonel  Gary  sent  for — new  suits  for  himself  from  the 
London  tailors  (no  good  ones  in  this  colony  as  yet),  fine  silks 
for  the  ladies,  wines  from  Madeira,  and  Bordeaux,  and  Oporto, 
new  editions  of  the  " Tattler,"  or  "Spectator,"  or  "Tom 
Jones,"  all  paid  for  by  the  tobacco  crop  raised  here  at  Ampt- 
hill.  The  Fly-~by-Night  probably  brings  also  the  London 
Gazette,  showing  what  view  is  taken  in  England  of  the  "  rising 
spirit  of  rebellion  "  in  the  colonies,  and  what  the  ministers 
think  of  the  doctrine  of  coercion.  Our  present  Governor, 
Fauquier,  is  not  wholly  "sound,"  it  is  thought,  upon  these 
questions,  and  Lord  Dunmore  it  is  supposed  will  succeed  him. 
A  second  gun !  The  Captain  of  the  Fly-ly-Night  seems  to 
have  anchored  at  the  wharf,  and  the  swivel,  announcing  his 
arrival  to  his  patrons,  is  making  a  jolly  racket.  Again ! — and 
there  again  !  Bomb  !  bomb  !  bomb !  bomb  !  Can  that  be  the 
Fly-ty- Night,  and  is  that  Mr.  .Randolph  galloping  up  in  hot 
haste  from  the  ferry  opposite  "  Wilton  ?  " 

It  is  a  courier  who  stops  a  moment  to  tell  me  that  the  Yankee 
gunboats  have  opened  below  Drury's  Bluff,  and  are  trying  to 


ON   THE   ROAD  TO   PETEKSBUKG.  535 

force  a  passage  through  the  obstructions.  So  my  dream  is  bro 
ken  ;  I  wake  in  the  every-day  world  of  1864 ;  the  year  1764  has 
quite  disappeared;  and  Gary  of  Ampthill — where  is  his  figure? 
That  is  only  my  friend,  the  amiable  Inspector-General,  on  the 
porch,  reading  a  copy  of  the  Richmond  Examiner.  I  took  hig 
looped-up  felt  for  a  cocked  hat,  and  his  officer's  braid  for  the 
ante-revolutionary  embroidery!  So  the  past  disappears,  but 
the  winds  are  blowing,  and  the  cloud-shadows  float  just  as  they 
did  one  hundred  years  ago.  The  fields  are  green  again,  the 
river  breeze  comes  to  me  with  its  low  sweet  murmur,  and  the 
birds  are  singing  in  the  trees  as  they  sang  for  Gary  of  Ampt 
hill. 

"Gentlemen,  will  you  walk  in  to  breakfast?  " 
O  most  prosaic — but  also  most  agreeable  of  announcements ! 
The  past  and  its  memories  fade  ;  we  are  again  in  the  present, 
as  the  most  agreeable  of  odours  indicates ! 


II. 
A  FAMILY  RIFLE-PIT. 


IN  war  the  bloody  and  the  grotesque  are  strangely  mingled ; 
comedy  succeeds  tragedy  with  startling  abruptness  ;  and  laugh 
ter  issues  from  the  lips  when  the  tears  upon  the  cheek  are 
scarcely  dry. 

I  had  never  heard  of  a  "  family  rifle-pit  "  before  June, 
1864.  I  am  going  to  give  the  reader  the  benefit  of  the  know 
ledge  I  acquired  on  that  occasion. 

General  Grant  was  then  besieging  Petersburg,  or  Richmond 
rather,  if  we  are  to  believe  the  military  gentlemen  who  edited 
the  New  York  newspapers ;  and  having  failed  to  drive  Lee 
from  his  earthworks,  where  the  Virginian  persisted  in  remain 
ing  despite  every  effort  made  to  oust  him,  the  Federal  com 
mander  organized  an  enormous  "  raid  "  against  the  Southside 
and  the  Danville  railroads,  by  which  Lee  was  supplied.  The 
result  of  this  cavalry  movement  is  known.  Generals  Wilson, 
Kautz,  and  others  who  commanded  in  the  expedition,  were 
successful  in  their  object,  so  far  as  the  destruction  of  a  large 
part  of  the  railroads  went ;  but  when  they  attempted  to  return 
to  their  infantry  lines,  below  Petersburg,  they  "  came  to  grief." 
Hampton  and  the  Lees  assailed  them,  forced  them  to  abandon 
their  artillery  and  ambulances  on  the  old  stage  road  near 
Reams'  Station,  and  it  was  only  by  a  resolute  effort  that  the 
remnants  of  the  Federal  cavalry  got  home  again. 

It  was  a  few  days  after  the  raid  that  the  present  writer  rode,  on 


A  FAMILY  RIFLE-PIT.  537 

duty,  through  the  region  which  the  opposing  cavalry  had  fought 
over,  looking  with  interest  upon  the  marks  of  the  hard  strug 
gle,  on  the  dead  horses,  half-burnt  vehicles,  and  remains  of  ar 
tillery  carriages,  with  the  spokes  hacked  hastily  in  pieces,  and 
the  guns  dismounted.  But  these  results  of  combat — of  retreat 
and  pursuit — are  familiar  to  the  reader,  doubtless,  and  not  of 
very  -great  interest  to  the  present  writer. 

The  "  Wilson  and  Kautz  raid  "  would  indeed  have  been  for 
gotten  long  ago  by  him,  but  for  the  "  family  rifle-pit "  men 
tioned  above,  and  to  this  the  attention  of  the  worthy  reader  is 
now  requested. 

I  heard  all  about  it  from  a  very  charming  lady  who  resided 
in  a  little  house  on  the  roadside,  not  very  far  from  Reams' ; 
and  before  me,  as  the  bright  eyes  flashed  and  the  red  lips  told 
the  story,  was  the  scene  of  the  events  narrated.  In  front, 
across  the  road,  was  a  field  of  oats ;  beyond  was  a  belt  of  woods  ; 
the  country  all  around  was  a  dead  and  dusty  level,  scorching 
in  the  sun.  The  house  had  a  yard,  and  in  this  yard  was  a  well 
with  a  "  sweep,"  as  they  call  it,  I  believe,  in  Dinvviddie,  which 
is  pronounced  by  the  inhabitants  Dunwoody,  which  "  sweep  " 
is  a  great  beam  balanced  in  the  crotch  of  a  tree,  a  bucket  be 
ing  suspended  to  one  end  of  the  beam  by  a  pole,  and  hanging 
above  the  well,  into  which  it  is  made  to  descend  by  working 
the  pole  downwards  with  the  hands. 

In  the  small  house  lived  Mr. ,  from  Gloucester,  with  his 

wife  and  family  of  small  children — all  refugees.  For  a  long 
time  it  seemed  that  the  amiable  household  would  remain  quite 
undisturbed ;  they  had  scarcely  seen  a  single  blue-coat.  But 
suddenly,  one  bright  June  morning,  the  road,  the  fields,  the 
woods,  the  yard,  the  porch,  and  the  mansion,  swarmed  with 
Federal  cavalry,  coming  from  the  direction  of  Prince  George. 

It  was  soon  ascertained  that  General  Wilson  was  "  riding  a 
raid,"  without  the  fear  of  Confederates  before  his  eyes ;  and 
had  thus  come  to  Reams'  Station,  on  the  Weldon  Railroad, 
where  a  force  of  Rebel  cavalry  was  expected  to  be  encoun 
tered.  Scouting  parties  had  accordingly  been  thrown  forward, 
a  recounoissance  made,  sharpshooters  were  advanced,  the  cav- 


~38  WEARING    OF  THE    GRAY. 

airy  moved  behind  in  column  of  squadrons,  and  the  house  and 

family  of  Mr. were  captured,  not  to  mention  some  old 

negroes,  and  very  young  ones — the  latter  clad,  for  the  most 
part,  in  a  single  garment,  adapted  rather  to  the  heat  of  the 
weather  than  to  the  production  of  an  imposing  effect. 

The  cavalry-men  crowded  to  the  well,  swarmed  through  the 
grounds,  and  then  commenced  a  scene  well  known  to  many  a 
family  in  the  South.  The  lives  of  venerable  ducks  were  sacri 
ficed,  in  spite  of  their  piteous  quacking;  frightened  chickens 
were  chased  and  knocked  over  with  sticks ;  calves  were  shot, 
and  the  hen-roost  and  dairy  cleared  with  a  rapidity  and  skill 
which  indicated  thorough  practice.  In  ten  minutes  the  yard 
was  duckless  and  chickenless ;  the  dairy  was  crockless,  the 
hen-roost  innocent  of  eggs.  The  besom  of  destruction  seemed 
to  have  passed  over  the  whole,  and  the  hungry  bluebirds  were 
cooking  and  devouring  their  spoil. 

Unfortunately  for  Mr.  -  — ,  they  were  not  satisfied  with 
poultry,  butter,  and  eggs.  They  wanted  hams — and  an  officer, 
Mrs.  —  —  assured  me,  demanded  her  keys.  When  she  assured 
him  that  her  children  required  this  food,  the  officer's  reply  was 
an  insult,  and  the  young  lady  was  forced  to  deliver  to  him  the 

key  of  her  smoke-house,  which  was  speedily  rifled.  Mrs. 

was  looking  on  with  bitter  distress ;  but  all  at  once  her  pride 
was  aroused — the  Southern  woman  flamed  out ! 

"  Take  it  if  you  choose,"  she  said,  with  sarcasm  ;  "  I  can 
easily  send  word  to  General  Lee  at  Petersburg,  and  meat  will 
be  supplied  me!  There  are  twelve  months'  rations  for  the 
whole  army  in  Richmond  "  (I  hope  the  recording  angel  blot 
ted  out  that  statement !) ;  "  and  if  you  do  cut  the  railroad,  Gen 
eral  Lee's  army  will  not  suffer,  but  be  just  as  strong  and  brave 
as  ever ! " 

"That's  foolish — it  will  ruin  him  !  "  said  one  of  the  men. 

"You  will  see,"  was  the  reply.  "Do  you  think  General 
Lee  could  not  prevent  your  coming  here  if  he  wished  to  ? 
He  wants  you  to  come,  for  he  expects  to  catch  you  all — every 
man — before  you  get  away  !  " 

This  new  and  striking  view  of  the  subject  seemed  to  produce 


A  FAMILY  RIFLE-PIT.  539 

a  deep  effect  upon  the  listeners.  They  paused  in  their  depre 
dations,  looked  doubtfully  around  them,  and  one  of  them,  put 
ting  his  hand  before  his  mouth,  said  aside  to  a  comrade : 

"  I  believe  what  she  says !  Mr.  Lee  can  get  us  all  away 
from  here  quick  enough,  and  I'm  sorry  that  we  ever  come  ! " 

Thirty  minutes  after  the  appearance  of  the  enemy,  the  house 
and  grounds  were  stripped.  Then  they  disappeared  on  their 
way  toward  the  Danville  road. 

Two  or  three  days  thereafter,  it  was  known  that  General  Wil 
son's  column  had  cut  the  road,  but  were  falling  back  rapidly 
before  Lee  and  Hampton  ;  that  they  had  abandoned  sixteen 
pieces  of  artillery,  and  were  now  striving,  with  exhausted  men 
and  horses,  to  cross  the  Weldon  road  and  get  back  to  their 
lines. 

There  was  a  very  brave  gentleman,  of  the  Fifth  Virginia 
Cavalry — Captain  Thaddeus  Fitzhngh — the  same  who  had 
crossed  the  Chesapeake  in  an  open  boat,  with  a  few  men,  and 
captured  a  detachment  of  the  enemy,  and  a  steamboat  which 
he  brought  off  and  destroyed,  in  the  fall  of  1863.  Captain 
Fitzhugh  was  sitting  in  the  porch  of  Mrs. 's  house,  con 
versing  with  the  lady,  when  looking  up,  he  saw  a  large  body 
of  the  enemy's  cavalry  just  across  the  wood.  The  odds  were 
great,  but  the  Captain  did  not  retreat.  He  threw  himself  on 
horseback,  leaped  the  fence  toward  the  enemy,  and  firing  his 
pistol  at  them,  shouted  : 

"  Come  on,  boys  !     Charge  !     Butler's  brigade  is  coming !  " 

Having  made  this  appeal  to  an  imaginary  squadron,  the  Cap 
tain  rode  across  their  front ;  but  suddenly  came  the  clatter  of 
hoofs,  the  rattle  of  sabres,  and  some  shots.  Butler's  brigade  had 
arrived,  and  the  Federal  cavalry  melted  away  into  the  woods 
so  rapidly,  that  an  old  negro,  hiding  with  his  mule  in  the  covert, 
said  they  "  nuver  see  mule,  nor  nothin',  hi !  hi !  " 

General  Butler — that  brave  soldier  and  most  courteous  of 
gentlemen — drew  up  his  brigade  ;  all  was  ready  for  the  coming 
combat ;  and  then  it  was  that  the  question  arose  of  the  "  family 
rifle-pit" 

Nervous,  unstrung,  trembling  at  the  thought  that  her  chil- 


540  WEARING   OF   THE   GRAY. 

dren  were  about  to  be  exposed  to  the  enemy's  fire,  Mrs. 

ran  out  to  the  Confederate  cavalry  in  front  of  her  house,  and 
seeing  one  of  the  officers,  asked  him  what  she  should  do.  His 
reply  was : 

"  Madam,  I  would  advise  you  to  shelter  your  family  at  once, 
as  we  expect  to  begin  fighting  at  any  moment." 

"  But  I  have  no  place,  sir !  "  exclaimed  the  lady,  in  despair. 

"  There  is  probably  a  cellar " 

"  No  ;  the  house  has  none  !  " 

"  Can't  you  get  behind  a  hill,  madam  ? " 

The  lady  gazed  around  ;  the  country  was  as  flat  as  a  table. 

"  There  is  not  the  least  knoll,  even,  sir  !  " 

"  Then,  madam,"  said  the  practical  and  matter-of-fact  officer, 
"  I  can  only  suggest  a  rifle-pit ;  your  husband  and  servants 
might  dig  it ;  and  that  will  certainly  protect  you." 

Odd  as  the  suggestion  may  seem,  it  was  immediately  adopted, 
as  the  most  commonplace  and  reasonable  thing  in  the  world. 

The  lady  thanked  the  officer,  hastened  back  to  the  house— 
and  now  behold  the  grand  family  hegira  toward  the  field  be 
yond  the  house  ! 

First  came  Mr.  -  -  and  an  old  servant,  carrying  spades 
to  dig  the  rifle-pit ;  next  came  the  little  family,  who  had  hastily 
taken  up  whatever  they  saw  first,  and  especially  noticeable 
was  the  young  heir  of  the  house.  Dimly  realizing,  apparently, 
that  their  absence  might  be  eternal,  he  had  secured  a  small  tin 
cup  and  two  dilapidated  old  hats,  wherewith  to  comfort  him 
self  in  exile ;  last  of  all,  and  in  rear,  that  is,  between  her  off 
spring  and  the  bullets,  came  the  beautiful  young  mother,  full 
of  anxious  solicitude  ;  trembling,  but  proud  and  defiant. 

I  should  like  to  possess  your  portrait,  could  it  have  been 
taken  at  that  moment,  madam ! — to  look  again  to-day,  in  the 
hours  of  a  dull  epoch,  upon  the  kind,  good  face  which  smiled 
so  sweetly  yonder,  making  sunshine  in  the  pine-woods  of  Din- 
widdie. 

And  the  family  rifle-pit  was  dug  by  rapid  hands ;  the  lady 
and  the  children  looking  on  with  deep  interest.  Foremost 
among  the  spectators  was  the  brave  little  urchin  grasping  his 


A  FAMILY  RIFLE-PIT.  Oil 

battered  tin  cup  and  tattered  old  hats,  to  the  possession  of 
which  he  seemed  to  attach  a  romantic  value.  Soon  a  pile  of 
earth  arose  ;  a  long  trench  had  been  dug  ;  and  the  lady  and 
her  children  took  refuge  therein  at  the  moment  when  the  crack 
of  carbines  resounded,  and  bullets  began  to  hiss  above  the  im 
promptu  earthworks.  It  was  not  doomed  to  be  tested  by  round- 
shot  or  shell  from  the  enemy's  cannon.  They  had  abandoned 
their  artillery  from  the  impossibility  of  getting  through  with 
it;  and  only  their  carbine-balls  whistled  above  the  cowering 
inmates  of  the  rifle-pit. 

Then  even  these  no  longer  came  to  make  the  mothers  heart 
tremble  for  her  children.  Butler's  men  had  charged ;  the 
enemy  had  given  way  ;  when  the  charming  person  who  related 
to  me  this  grotesque  incident  emerged  from  her  place  of  refuge, 
not  a  single  Federal  cavalry-man  was  in  sight.  Only  the  dis 
mantled  grounds  and  the  family  rifle-pit  remained  to  show 
that  the  whole  was  not  some  nightmare  of  darkness,  which  had 
flown  with  the  coming  of  sunshine. 


A  FIGHT,  A  DEAD  MAN,  AND  A  COFFIN. 


AN   INCIDENT   OF   1864. 

THE  incident  about  to  be  narrated  occurred  in  November,  18(54, 
when  Early  with  his  8.000  or  9,000  men  had  been  compelled  to 
retire  up  the  Valley  before  Sheridan,  with  his  30,000  or  40,000  ; 
and  when,  in  the  excess  of  their  satisfaction  at  this  triumph  of 
the  Federal  arms,  the  Federal  authorities  conceived  the  design 
of  ferreting  out  and  crushing  in  the  same  manner  the  band  of 
the  celebrated  bandit  Mosby — which  result  once  achieved  by  the 
commander  of  the  "  Middle  Department,"  the  whole  of  Northern 
Virginia  would  be  reduced  under  the  sway  of  the  Stars  and  Stripes. 

To  ferret  out  Colonel  Mosby  was  a  difficult  task,  however ; 
and  to  crush  him  had,  up  to  this  time,  proved  an  undertaking 
beyond  the  ability  of  the  best  partisans  of  the  Federal  army. 
Not  that  they  had  not  made  numerous  and  determined  attempts 
to  accomplish  this  cherished  object.  In»fact,  no  pains  had  been 
spared.  Mosby  had  proved  himself  so  dangerous  a  foe  to  wagon 
trains,  lines  of  communication,  and  foraging  parties,  that  the 
generals  whose  trains  were  destroyed,  whose  communications 
were  interrupted,  and  whose  detached  parties  were  captured,  had 
on  many  occasions  sworn  huge  oaths  to  arrest  his  "  depreda 
tions  ;  "  and  more  than  once  the  most  skilful  partisan  officers,  in 
command  of  considerable  bodies  of  picked  men,  had  been  sent 
into  the  wilds  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  or  to  "  Mosby's  Confederacy  " — 
that  is  to  say,  the  county  of  Fauquier — to  waylay  and  destroy 
or  capture  this  wily  foe  who  had  so  long  eluded  them. 

All  had  failed.  Mosby  refused  to  be  captured  or  destroyed. 
If  a  large  force  came  against  him,  he  retreated  to  his  mountain 


A   FIGHT,    A   DEAD   MAN,    AND    A   COFFIN.  543 

fastnesses — not  a  trace  of  his  existence  could  be  found.  If  the 
force  was  small,  he  attacked  and  nearly  always  cut  to  pieces  or 
captured  it.  With  his  headquarters  near  Piedmont  Station,  on 
the  Manassas  railroad,  east  of  the  Kidge,  he  knew  by  his  scouts 
of  any  movement ;  then  couriers  were  seen  going  at  full  gallop 
to  summon  the  men,  scattered  among  the  mountain  spurs,  or 
waiting  at  remote  houses  in  the  woods,  to  the  previously  speci 
fied  rendezvous — at  Markham's,  Upperville,  Paris,  Oak  Grove, 
or  elsewhere  ;  then  Mosby  set  out ;  and  he  nearly  always  came 
back  with  spoils — that  is  to  say,  arms,  horses,  and  prisoners. 

In  November,  1864,  this  state  of  things  had  become  intolera 
ble.  Early  had  been  forced  to  retire — that  wolf  with  the  sharp 
claws;  but  Mosby,  the  veritable  wildcat,  still  lingered  in  the 
country  as  dangerous  as  ever.  Immense  indignation  was  expe 
rienced  by  the  enemy  at  this  persistent  defiance ;  and  an  addi 
tional  circumstance  at  this  time  came  to  add  fuel  to  the  flame 
of  the  Federal  displeasure.  Hitherto,  the  Confederate  partisan 
had  operated  generally  east  of  the  Blue  Eidge,  between  the 
mountains  and  Manassas,  guarding  that  whole  country.  With 
the  transfer  of  active  hostilities,  however,  to  the  Valley,  in  the 
summer  and  fall  of  1864,  he  had  turned  his  attention  more  espe 
cially  to  that  region.  There  were  to  be  found  the  trains  of 
Hunter  and  Sheridan,  the  wandering  parties  of  "  Jesse  Scouts," 
clad  in  gray,  whom  he  delighted  to  encounter  :  in  the  Valley  not 
east  of  the  Ridge  was  his  most  favourable  field  of  operations — 
and,  above  all,  it  was  there  that  his  services  were  chiefly  needed 
to  protect  the  inhabitants  from  the  depredations  of  these 
detached  parties  which  spread  such  terror  amid  the  popu 
lation. 

To  the  Valley  Mosby  accordingly  directed  his  attention,  and 
this  region  thenceforth  became  his  main  field  of  operations. 
Scarce  a  day  passed  without  an  attack  upon  some  wandering 
party,  upon  some  string  of  wagons,  or  upon  the  railroad  by 
which  the  Federal  army  was  supplied.  These  stirring  adven 
tures  are  the  subject  of  a  volume  which  will  soon  appear  from 
the  accomplished  Major  Scott,  of  Fauquier.  The  object  of 
this  chapter  is  to  record  the  particulars  of  one  of  the  fights 


544  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

referred  to,  in  which  a  small  band  of  Confederates  under  Captain 
Mountjoy,  that  accomplished  partisan  of  Mosby's  command, 
suffered  a  reverse. 

Were  it  within  the  scope  of  the  present  article  to  draw  an 
outline  of  the  person  and  character  of  this  brave  gentleman — 
Captain  Mountjoy— many  readers,  we  are  sure,  would  derive 
pleasure  from  the  perusal  of  our  sketch.  Never  was  a  braver 
heart  than  his — never  a  more  refined  and  admirable  breeding. 
Gallant-looking,  cool,  courteous,  with  his  calm  sad  face  over 
shadowed  by  the  drooping  hat  with  its  golden  cord ;  wearing 
sword  and  pistol  like  a  trained  cavalryman  ;  not  cast  down  by 
reverses,  not  elated  by  success — a  splendid  type  of  the  great 
Mississippi  race  from  which  he  sprung,  and  a  gentleman  "  every 
inch  of  him."  Mountjoy's  was  a  face,  a  figure,  and  a  bearing 
which  attracted  the  eyes  of  all  who  admire  in  men  the  evidences 
of  culture,  resolution,  and  honour.  But  this  is  not  the  place  to 
record  the  virtues  of  that  brave  true  heart,  gone  now  with  many 
others  to  a  land  where  war  never  comes.  We  proceed  to  record 
the  incident  which  we  have  referred  to. 

It  occurred,  as  we  have  said,  in  November,  1864,  and  the 
scene  was  a  mansion  perched  upon  a  hill,  with  a  background  of 
woods,  between  the  little  village  of  Millwood  and  the  Shenan- 
doah.  This  house  was  well  known  to  Mosby,  well  known  to 
Mountjoy,  well  known  to  many  hundreds  of  Confederate  soldiers, 
who — God  be  thanked ! — never  left  its  door  without  food,  with 
out  receiving  all  that  it  was  in  the  power  of  the  family  to  give 
them,  and  that  without  money  and  without  price. 

A  day  or  two  before  the  incident  about  to  be  related,  Mount- 
joy  had  gone  with  a  considerable  party  of  men,  towards  Charles- 
town  ;  had  made  an  attack ;  secured  numerous  horses  and  prison 
ers ;  and  on  this  afternoon  was  returning  towards  Millwood — 
only  by  the  river  road — to  cross  the  Shenandoah  at  Berry's 
ferry,  and  secure  his  captures.  Mountjoy  had  but  one  fault  as 
an  officer — rashness.  On  this  occasion  he  was  rash.  As  he 
returned  from  his  scout,  and  arrived  opposite  the  different  fords, 
he  permitted,  first  one,  then  another,  then  whole  squads  of  his 
men  to  cross  to  their  homes  east  of  the  Ridge,  so  that  on  reach- 


A   FIGHT,   A  DEAD  MAN,   AND   A   COFFIN.  545 

ing  a  point  nearly  opposite  Millwood,  he  had  with  him  only 
fifteen  men  guarding  the  numerous  horses  and  prisoners. 

Then  came  the  hostile  fate — close  on  his  heels.  The  attack 
made  by  him  upon  the  enemy  down  the  river  had  greatly 
enraged  them.  They  had  hastily  mustered  a  considerable  force 
to  pursue  him  and  recapture  the  prisoners,  and  as  he  reached 
Morgan's  Lane,  near  the  Tilthammer  Mill,  this  party,  about  one 
hundred  in  number,  made  a  sudden  and  unexpected  attack  upon 
him. 

The  force  was  too  great  to  meet  front  to  front,  and  the  ground 
so  unfavourable  for  receiving  their  assault,  that  Mountjoy  gave 
the  order  for  his  men  to  save  themselves,  and  they  abandoned 
the  prisoners  and  horses,  put  spurs  to  their  animals,  and  retreated 
at  full  gallop  past  the  mill,  across  a  little  stream,  and  up  the  long 
hill  upon  which  was  situated  the  mansion  above  referred  to. 
Behind  them  the  one  hundred  Federal  cavalrymen  came  on  at 
full  gallop,  calling  upon  them  to  halt,  and  firing  volleys  into 
them  as  they  retreated. 

We  beg  now  to  introduce  upon  the  scene  the  female  dramatis 
personaz  of  the  incident — two  young  ladies  who  had  hastened  out 
to  the  fence  as  soon  as  the  firing  began,  and  now  witnessed  the 
whole.  As  they  reached  the  fence,  the  fifteen  men  of  Captain 
Mountjoy  appeared,  mounting  the  steep  road  like  lightning, 
closely  pursued  by  the  Federal  cavalry,  whose  dense  masses 
completely  filled  the  narrow  road.  The  scene  at  the  moment 
was  sufficient  to  try  the  nerves  of  the  young  ladies.  The  clash 
of  hoofs,  the  crack  of  carbines,  the  loud  cries  of  "halt!  halt! ! 
halt  I !  !  " — this  tramping,  shouting,  banging,  to  say  nothing  of 
the  quick  hiss  of  bullets  filling  the  air,  rendered  the  "  place  and 
time  "  more  stirring  than  agreeable  to  one  consulting  the  dictates 
of  a  prudent  regard  to  his  or  her  safety. 

Nevertheless,  the  young  ladies  did  not  stir.  They  had  half 
mounted  the  board  fence,  and  in  this  elevated  position  were 
exposed  to  a  close  and  dangerous  fire  ;  more  than  one  bullet 
burying  itself  in  the  wood  close  to  their  persons.  But  they  did 
not  move — and  this  for  a  reason  more  creditable  than  mere 
curiosity  to  witness  the  engagement,  which  may,  however,  have 

35 


546  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

counted  for  something.  This  attracted  them,  but  they  were 
engaged  in  "  doing  good  "  too  !  It  was  of  the  last  importance 
that  the  men  should  know  where  they  could  cross  the  river. 

"  Where  is  the  nearest  ford  ?  "  they  shouted. 

"  In  the  woods  there ! "  was  the  reply  of  one  of  the  young 
ladies,  pointing  with  her  hand,  and  not  moving. 

"  How  can  we  reach  it  ?  " 

"  Through  that  gate." 

And  waving  her  hand,  the  speaker  directed  the  rest,  amid  a 
storm  of  bullets  burying  themselves  in  the  fence  close  beside 
her. 

The  men  went  at  full  gallop  towards  the  ford.  Last  of  all 
came  Mountjoy — but  Mountjoy,  furious,  foaming  almost  at  the 
mouth,  on  fire  with  indignation,  and  uttering  oaths  so  frightful 
that  they  terrified  the  young  ladies  much  more  than  the  balls,  or 
the  Federal  cavalry  darting  up  the  hill. 

Let  us  here,  in  parenthesis,  as  it  were,  offer  a  proof  of  that 
high-breeding  we  have  claimed  for  Captain  Mountjoy.  A  young 
lady  expressed  afterwards  her  regret  that  so  brave  a  gentleman 
should  have  uttered  an  oath,  and  this  came  to  his  ears.  He  at 
once  called  to  see  her  and  said  gravely,  in  his  cairn,  sad  voice. 
"  I  am  sorry  that  I  swore.  I  will  try  not  to  do  so  again,  but  I 
was  very  angry  that  day,  as  the  men  might  have  whipped  the 
enemy  in  spite  of  their  numbers,  if  I  could  only  have  gotten 
them  to  make  a  stand,  and  this  was  before  you.'1'' 

But  that  was  when  his  blood  was  cool.  At  the  moment  when 
he  brought  up  the  rear  of  the  men,  Mountjoy  was  raging. 
Nevertheless  he  stopped  in  the  very  face  of  the  enemy,  besought 
the  young  ladies  to  leave  the  fence  where  they  were  exposing 
themselves  to  imminent  danger,  and  then,  still  furious,  he  disap 
peared,  most  of  all  enraged,  as  he  afterwards  explained,  that  this 
stampede  of  his  men  and  himself  should  have  taken  place  in  the 
presence  of  the  young  ladies. 

The  partisan  had  scarcely  disappeared  in  the  woods,  when  the 
enemy  rushed  up,  and  demanded  which  way  the  Confederates 
had  taken. 

"  I  will  not  tell  you  !  "  was  the  reply  of  the  youngest  girl. 


A  FIGHT,    A   DEAD   MAN,    AND   A   COFFIN.  547 

The  trooper  drew  a  pistol,  and  cocking  it,  levelled  it  at  her 
head. 

"  Which  way  ?  "  he  thundered. 

The  young  lady  shrunk  from  the  muzzle,  and  said  : 

"  Plow  do  I  know  ?  " 

"  Move  on  !  "  resounded  from  the  lips  of  the  officer  in  com 
mand,  and  the  column  rushed  by,  nearly  trampling  upon  the 
ladies,  who  ran  to  the  house. 

Here  a  new  incident  greeted  them,  and  one  sufficiently  tragic. 
Before  the  door,  sitting  his  horse,  was  a  trooper,  clad  in  blue 
— and  at  sight  of  him  the  ladies  shrunk  back.  A  second  glance 
showed  them  that  he  was  bleeding  to  death  from  a  mortal 
wound.  The  bullet  had  entered  his  side,  traversed  the  body, 
issued  from  the  opposite  side,  inflicting  a  wound  which  rendered 
death  almost  certain. 

"  Take  me  from  my  horse  !  "  murmured  the  wounded  man, 
stretching  out  his  arms  and  tottering. 

The  young  girls  ran  to  him. 

•'  Who  are  you — one  of  the  Yankees  ?  "  they  exclaimed. 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  was  the  faint  reply.  "  I  am  one  of  Mountjo}^s 
men.  Tell  him,  when  you  see  him,  that  I  said,  '  Captain,  this 
is  the  first  time  I  have  gone  out  with  you,  and  the  last ! ' : 

As  they  assisted  him  from  the  saddle,  he  murmured : 

"  My  name  is  William  Armistead  Braxton.  I  have  a  wife 
and  three  little  children  living  in  Hanover — you  must  let  them 
know " 

Then  the  poor  fellow  fainted  ;  and  the  young  ladies  were 
compelled  to  carry  him  in  their  arms  into  the  house,  where  he 
was  laid  upon  a  couch,  writhing  in  great  agony. 

They  had  then  time  to  look  at  him,  and  saw  before  them  a 
young  man  of  gallant  countenance,  elegant  figure — in  every  out 
line  of  his  person  betraying  the  gentleman  born  and  bred.  They 
afterwards  discovered  that  he  had  just  joined  Mosby,  and  that, 
as  he  had  stated,  this  was  his  first  scout.  Poor  fellow  !  it  was 
also  his  last. 

The  scene  which  followed  has  more  than  once  been  described 
to  the  present  writer,  and  it  made  a  dolorous  impression  on  his 


548  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

heart.  The  wounded  man  lay  upon  the  couch,  struggling  against 
death,  writhing  with  his  great  agony,  and  bleeding  so  profusely 
that  the  couch  was  saturated  with  his  blood.  Even  in  that 
moment,  however,  the  instincts  of  gentle  breeding  betrayed 
themselves  in  the  murmured  words : 

"  My  spurs  will — tear  the  cover — lay  me — on  the  floor." 

This,  of  course,  was  not  complied  with,  and  the  young  ladies 
busied  themselves  attempting  to  bind  up  his  wound. 

While  one  was  thus  engaged,  another  hastened  to  unbuckle 
his  belt,  in  order  to  secure  his  pistol.  This  was  necessary,  as 
the  Federal  cavalry  was  already  trampling  in  front  of  the  house, 
and  shouting  to  the  inmates.  * 

Unable  to  undo  the  belt,  the  young  lady  quickly  drew  the 
pistol  from  its  holster,  secreted  it  in  a  closet,  and  turning  round, 
saw  that  in  this  moment  the  dying  man  had  rolled  from  the 
couch  upon  the  floor,  where  he  was  exclaiming :  "  Lord  Jesus, 
have  pity  upon  me  !  " 

She  hastened  back  to  him,  and  at  the  same  instant  the  house 
was  literally  crowded  suddenly  with  Federal  soldiers,  who  burst 
open  the  doors,  tore  the  ornaments  from  the  mantelpiece,  broke 
everything  which  they  could  lay  their  hands  upon,  and  exhibit 
ed  violent  rage  at  the  escape  of  the  Confederates. 

Those  men  were  in  gray.  We  neglected  to  state  that  fact. 
Mountjoy's  men  were  in  blue.  Thus  the  opponents  had  swapped 
uniforms — the  blue  being  gray,  and  the  gray  blue.  This  fact 
caused  the  capture  of  the  wounded  man's  pistol.  The  young 
lady  who  had  secreted  it  was  kneeling  by  him,  holding  his  hand 
— or  rather  he  had  caught  her  own,  as  wounded  men  will,  and 
tightly  held  it — when  a  tall  and  very  brutal-looking  trooper, 
bending  over  the  prostrate  figure,  saw  the  empty  holster. 

"  Where  is  his  pistol  ?  "  he  thundered  in  a  ferocious  tone. 

"  What  pistol  ? "  said  the  young  lady,  firmly,  and  returning 
the  brutal  gaze  without  flinching. 

"  His  pistol ! — you  have  hidden  it !  Where  is  it  ?  —  give  it 
up." 

And  he  pushed  the  wounded  man  with  his  foot,  nearly  turn 
ing  him  over. 


AND  A   COFFIN.  549 

"  You'll  not  get  it  from  me  !  "  exclaimed  the  young  lady,  look 
ing  boldly  at  him,  every  drop  of  her  woman's  bloojl  aroused 
inflamed,  and  defiant  at  this  cruel  act. 

"  Give  me  the  pistol ! — or " 

And  he  drew  his  own,  pointing  it  at  her. 

"  I've  not  got  it !  " 

Here  the  voice  of  a  diminutive  negro  girl,  who  had  seen  the 
weapon  secreted,  and  who  took  the  Federal  trooper  in  his  gray 
coat  for  a  Confederate,  was  heard  exclaiming — 

"  La  !  Miss ,  'tis  in  the  closet,  where  you  put  it !  " 

And  in  an  instant  the  man  had  rushed  thither  and  secured  it. 

The  house  was  now  filled  with  men,  rushing  from  top  to  bot 
tom  of  it,  and  breaking  to  pieces  every  object  upon  which  they 
could  lay  their  hands.  In  the  house  at  the  time  was  Captain 

?  a  wounded  officer  of  artillery,  and  Lieutenant ,  a  staff 

officer,  who  had  been  surprised,  and  was  now  secreted  in  a 
closet.  Captain 's  room  was  visited,  but  he  was  not  molest 
ed;  Lieutenant  was  so  skilfully  concealed  in  his  closet, 

against  which  a  bed  was  thrust,  that  he  was  not  discovered. 

Smashed  crockery,  shattered  parlour  ornaments,  followed 
spoons,  knives,  forks,  shawls,  blankets,  books,  daguerreotypes — 
these  and  many  other  movables  speedily  appeared  in  dwindling 
perspective ;  then  they  vanished. 

Thus  theft,  insult,  and  outrage  had  their  veritable  carnival — 
but  the  young  ladies  did  not  heed  it.  They  were  absorbed  by 
the  painful  spectacle  of  the  wounded  gentleman,  who,  stretched 
upon  the  floor  of  the  dining-room  below,  seemed  about  to  draw 
his  last  breath.  He  still  held  the  hand  of  the  young  lady  who 
had  removed  his  pistol ;  to  this  he  clung  with  an  unrelaxing 
clutch  ;  and  the  sight  of  her  tearful  face,  as  she  knelt  beside  him, 
seemed  to  afford  him  the  only  satisfaction  of  which  he  was  capable. 

"Pray  for  me!"  he  murmured,  clinging  to  her  hand  and 
groaning;  "pray  for  me,  but  pray  to  yourself!  " 

"  Oh,  yes !  "  was  the  reply,  and  the  wounded  man  sank  back, 
moaning,  amid  the  crowd  of  jeering  troopers  trampling  around 
his  "fallen  head!" 

To  these  an  honourable  exception  speedily  revealed  himself. 


550  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

This  was  a  young  Federal  officer,  who  came  to  the  side  of  the 
wounded  man,  gazed  first  at  him,  then  at  the  young  lady,  and 
then  knelt  down  beside  them. 

The  glazing  eyes  of  the  wounded  man  looked  out  from  his 
haggard  face. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  he  muttered. 

"  I  am  Lieutenant  Cole,"  was  the  reply,  in  a  sad  and  pitying 
voice  ;  "  I  am  sorry  to  see  you  so  dangerously  wounded." 

11  Yes — I  am — dying." 

"  If  you  have  any  affairs  to  arrange,  my  poor  friend,  you  had 
better  do  so,"  said  Lieutenant  Cole  ;  "  and  I  will  try  and  attend 
to  them  for  you." 

"  No — the  ladies  here — -will " 

There  he  paused  with  a  hoarse  groan. 

"  You  are  about  to  die,"  said  the  Lieutenant;  "there  is  no 
hope.  I  arn  a  Christian,  and  I  will  pray  for  you." 

As  he  spoke  he  closed  his  eyes,  and  remaining  on  his  knees, 
silent  and  motionless,  was  evidently  offering  up  a  prayer  for  the 
dying  man,  who  continued  to  writhe  and  toss,  in  his  great 
agony. 

There  are  men  whom  we  regret,  but  are  proud  to  have  for 
our  enemies ;  this  man  was  one  of  them. 

When  he  rose  his  expression  was  grave  ;  he  chrew  a  last  glance 
at  the  sufferer,  and  then  disappeared.  His  fate  was  sad,  and 
seemed  an  injustice  to  so  brave  a  gentleman.  On  the  very  next 
day  he  was  captured  by  a  party  of  Confederates,  and  while 
being  conducted  across  the  Blue  Ridge  thought  that  he  discover 
ed  an  opportunity  to  escape.  Drawing  his  pistol,  which  by  some 
negligence  had  been  left  upon  his  person,  he  fired  upon  his 
guard.  The  bullet  missed  its  aim — and  the  guard  firing  in  turn, 
blew  out  Lieutenant  Cole's  brains.* 

*  A  singular  coincidence  comes  to  the  writer's  memory  here.  The  mother  of 
the  young  ladies  whose  adventures  are  here  related,  had  on  this  day  gone  to  attend 
the  funeral  of  young  Carlisle  Whiting  at  the  "  Old  Chapel "  some  miles  distant. 
Young  "Whiting  had  been  killed  by  a  Federal  prisoner,  whom  he  was  conducting 
south,  near  Front  RoyaL  The  prisoner's  pistol  had  been  overlooked ;  he  drew  it 
suddenly,  and  fired  upon  his  guard,  the  bullet  inflicting  a  mortal  wound. 


A   FIGHT,    A  DEAD   MAN,   AND  A  COFFIN.  551 

At  nightfall  the  Federal  troopers  had  torn  the  house  to  pieces, 
taken  all  which  they  could  not  destroy,  and  had  vanished. 
Mountjoy  had  succeeded  in  getting  off  with  his  men.  At  six 
o'clock  on  the  next  morning  poor  Braxton  breathed  his  last,  still 
holding  the  hand  of  the  young  lady,  which  seemed  to  be  all  by 
which  he  had  clung  to  life. 

Then  a  strange  and  unexpected  difficulty  arose.  It  is  safe  to 
say  that  the  young  ladies  of  New  York  or  Philadelphia,  at  that 
moment  buried  in  slumbers  in  their  happy  homes,  surrounded 
by  every  comfort — it  is  safe  to  say  that  they  would  have  found 
it  difficult  then — will  find  it  difficult  now — to  conceive  even  the 
great  dilemma  which  their  young  rebel  "  sisters  "  were  called  upon 
to  face.  The  death  of  a  friend  would  have  been  sad  to  the 
young  New  Yorker  or  Philadelphia!!,  but  at  least  they  would  have 
seen  his  body  deposited  in  a  rosewood  coffin ;  the  head  would 
have  rested  on  its  satin  cushion ;  lace  handkerchiefs  raised  to 
streaming  eyes,  in  the  long  procession  of  brilliant  equipages,  would 
have  been  soothing  to  his  friends,  as  indicating  the  general  grief. 

Here,  in  that  good  or  bad  year  1864,  on  the  border,  things 
were  different.  There  were  no  equipages — no  lace  handker 
chiefs — no  satin,  and  rosewood,  and  silver — not  even  a  coffin. 
In  the  midst  of  their  grief  for  the  loss  of  that  brave  soldier  of 
one  of  the  old  Virginia  families,  their  connexions,  the  young 
Confederate  girls  were  met  by  this  sudden  obstacle — by  this 
gross,  material  question,  this  brutal  difficulty — where  shall  a 
coffin  for  the  dead  be  procured?  There  lay  the  dead  body 
pale,  cold,  terrible — how  bury  it  as  Christians  bury  their  dead? 

They  did  not  cry  or  complain,  but  courageously  set  to  work. 
Beside  themselves,  there  were  in  the  house  two  young  cousins 

now,  who  had  hastened  to  the  place,  Phil and  George , 

at  that  time  mere  boys.  These  went  to  the  mill,  past  which 
Mountjoy  had  retreated,  and  painfully  raising  upon  their  shoul 
ders  some  broad  and  heavy  planks  lying  there,  bore  them  up  the 
hill  to  the  house.  Then,  accompanied  by  the  youngest  of  the 
girls,  they  went  to  an  old  saw-mill  near  the  river,  gathered 
together  a  number  of  rails  from  old  timber  there,  returned,  and 
began  their  lugubrious  work. 


552  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY.  . 

The  details  of  their  employment  were  as  sombre  as  the  employ 
ment  itself.  The  dead  body  was  first  to  be  measured  ;  and  this 
was  courageously  undertaken  by  the  youngest  girl,  who,  placing 
one  end  of  a  cord  upon  the  dead  man's  forehead,  measured  to 
his  feet.  The  length  was  thus  determined,  and  the  boys  set  to 
work,  assisted  by  the  girl,  sawing,  hammering,  and'  nailing 
together  the  rude  box  which  was  to  contain  all  that  remained  of 
the  poor  youth. 

The  work  absorbed  them  throughout  the  short  November  day, 
and  only  at  nightfall  was  it  finished.  Then  the  fear  seized  upon 
them  that  they  had  made  the  coffin  too  long ;  that  the  corpse 
would  not  lie  securely  in  it,  and  move  when  carried.  A  singular, 
means  of  testing  the  length  of  the  coffin  was  suddenly  hit  upon. 
The  eldest  of  the  young  ladies,  who  had  been  watching  the  corpse 
during  the  work,  now  approached,  and  without  shrinking,  lay 
at  full  length  in  the  coffin,  which  was  then  found  to  be  amply 
large.  Then  the  body  was  deposited  in  it — the  pious  toil  had 
been  accomplished. 

Was  not  that  painfully  in  contrast  with  the  decent  city 
'arrangements,"  which  take  from  the  mourner  all  the  gross 
details — permitting  his  grief  to  hover  serenely  in  the  region  of 
sentiment  ?  This  rude  pine  coffin  differed  from  the  rosewood  ; 
the  funeral  cortege  which  ere  long  appeared,  differed,  too,  from 
the  long  line  of  shining  carriages. 

It  consisted  of  three  hundred  horsemen,  silent,  muffled,  and 
armed  to  the  teeth,  for  the  enemy  were  close  by  in  heavy  force. 
They  appeared,  without  notice,  about  three  hours  past  midnight, 
and  at  the  head  of  them,  we  believe,  was  Mountjoy. 

The  body,  still  in  its  rude  coffin,  was  lifted  into  a  vehicle ; 
some  hasty  words  were  exchanged  with  the  young  ladies,  for  a 
large  force  of  the  enemy  was  near  Millwood  within  sight,  a 
mile  or  two  across  the  fields ;  then  the  shadowy  procession  of 
horsemen  moved  ;  their  measured  hoof-strokes  resounded,  gra 
dually  dying  away ;  the  corpse  was  borne  through  the  river, 
ascended  the  mountain — and  at  sunrise  the  dead  man  was  sleep 
ing  in  the  soil  of  Fauquier. 


IV. 

GENERAL  PEGRAM  ON  THE  NIGHT  BEFORE  HIS 

DEATH. 


i. 

THE  writer's  object  in  the  present  paper  is  to  chronicle  the 
events  of  a  day  in  the  pine-woods  of  Dinwiddie  in  1865,  and 
to  mention  a  circumstance  which  impressed  him  forcibly  at  the 
time ;  nearly  convincing  him  of  the  truth  of  "  presentiments," 
and  warnings  of  approaching  death. 

It  was  early  in  February  of  the  year  1865,  and  General 
Grant  had  for  some  time  been  straining  every  nerve  to  force 
his  way  to  the  Southside  railroad — when  General  Lee  would 
be  cut  off  from  his  base  of  supplies,  and  compelled  to  retreat 
or  surrender  his  army.  Grant  had  exhibited  a  persistence 
which  amounted  to  genius ;  and  the  Federal  lines  had  been 
pushed  from  the  Jerusalem  to  the  Weldon  road,  from  the 
Weldon  to  the  Yaughan  and  Squirrel  Level  roads,  and  thence 
still  westward  beyond  Hatcher's  Run,  toward  the  White  Oak 
road,  running  through  the  now  well-known  locality  of  Five 
Forks.  On  the  western  bank  of  the  run,  near  Burgess's  Mill, 
General  Lee's  extreme  right  confronted  the  enemy,  barring  his 
further  advance. 

The  Confederate  right  was  almost  unprotected  by  cavalry. 
This  unfortunate  circumstance  arose  from  the  fact  that  after 
the  destruction  of  the  Weldon  Railroad  as  far  south  as  Hicks- 
ford,  fifty  miles  from  Petersburg,  the  cavalry  was  obliged  to 
repair  to  that  distant  point  for  forage.  Never  was  anything 
more  unfortunate ;  but  it  was  one  of  those  misfortunes  which 


5;>i  WEARING   OF   THE    GRAY. 

no  generalship  could  prevent.  By  sheer  force  of  numbers, 
General  Grant  had  effected  the  destruction  of  the  road ;  the 
Southside  road  could  not  supply  forage;  the  cavalry  horses 
must  go  to  Hicksford  or  starve.  Such  was  the  explanation  of 
the  fact  that  General  Lee's  right  was  guarded  only  by  a  small 
regiment  or  two  of  horse,  on  picket. 

Such  was  the  "  situation."  Grant  on  the  banks  of  Hatcher's 
Run  ;  the  Rowanty  almost  unguarded  ;  the  path  open  for  cav 
alry  to  the  Southside  road ;  Five  Forks,  and  the  retreat  of 
the  Confederate  army,  looming  in  the  distance.  The  passionate 
struggle  which  had  for  four  years  drawn  to  the  great  arena  the 
eyes  of  all  the  world  was  about  to  be  decided  amid  the  sombre 
pines  of  Dinwiddie.  » 

A  few  scenes  in  these  pine  woods  at  the  crisis  referred  to 
may  interest  the  reader.  The  narrative  will  probably  convey 
a  better  idea  of  the  "  times  as  they  were  "  than  a  more  am 
bitious  record — the  familiar  view  being  generally  the  best. 
"While  the  infantry  lines  were  closing  in  the  death-grapple  in 
front  of  Petersburg,  the  blue  and  gray  horsemen  were  hunting 
each  other  in  the  Dinwiddie  forests,  and  the  game  was  not  un 
exciting.  The  "  events  of  a  day  "  are  here  rapidly  traced,  just 
as  they  appeared  to  the  writer.  No  tremendous  exploits  will 
be  narrated  or  "  thrilling  adventures  "  recorded  ;  but  perhaps 
some  of  the  actual  colouring  of  the  great  war-canvas  will  be 
caught  in  the  hasty  memoir. 

Returning  from  a  tour  of  inspection  at  Hicksford,  night  sur 
prised  me  not  far  from  Nottoway  river ;  and  having  crossed 
that  turbulent  stream  at  risk  of  drowning  my  horse,  I  spent  the 

night  at  the  hospitable  mansion  of  Mr.  D ,  not  far  from 

Halifax  bridge,  on  the  Rowanty.  The  Federal  forces  were  just 
beyond  the  stream,  and  no  Confederate  picket  between ;  but 
the  night  passed  undisturbed  even  by  the  prowling  of  a  single 
Federal  scout ;  and  on  the  next  morning  the  line  of  march  was 
resumed  for  Petersburg  by  way  of  Malone's. 

Two  hundred  yards  to  the  left  of  Halifax  bridge  there  sud 
denly  appeared  a  number  of  "  scattered  "  cavalry-men — gray — 
approaching  at  full  gallop,  evidently  stampeded. 


GENERAL   PEGRAM.  55o 

"  What  is  the  matter  ? " 

"The  Yankees  have  crossed  with  two  regiments  at  Ma- 
lone's !  "  from  the  hurrying  horseman. 

"  Did  you  see  them  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Where  is  your  regiment  ?  " 

"  Back  to  Kirby's,  and  everything  is  ordered  to  Dinwiddie 
Court-House ! " 

This  report  was  soon  confirmed  by  the  rest,  and  "  full  particu 
lars,"  as  the  journals  say,  were  given.  A  strong  force  of  Fede 
ral  cavalry  had  suddenly  attacked  the  small  regiment  on  picket 
at  Malone's,  and  dispersed  it,  nearly  capturing  Gen.  William 
H.  F.  Lee,  who  chanced  to  be  there  inspecting  his  lines.  This 
force  had  steadily  pressed  on.  the  Confederates  retiring ;  was 
now  at  Kirby's,  and  soon  would  be  at  Dinwiddie  Court-House. 

This  was  not  eminently  agreeable  to  myself  personally. 
"  Kirby's  "  was  on  the  only  road  to  Petersburg,  except  by  way 
of  Malone's — for  the  time  rendered  impracticable — and  to 
reach  my  journey's  end  it  seemed  necessary  to  make  the  cir 
cuit  by  Dinwiddie  Court-House.  To  attempt  the  road  by  Kir 
by's  was  certain  capture ;  and  in  an  undoubted  bad  humour  the 
"solitary  horseman,"  as  Mr.  James  would  say,  turned  to  the 
left,  crossed  Stony  Creek,  struck  into  the  "  Flat  Foot  Eoad," 
and  in  due  time  drew  near  Honey's  bridge,  on  the  upper  waters 
of  the  stream,  near  Dinwiddie.  Within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of 
the  stream  a  soldier  made  his  appearance,  coming  to  meet  me, 
and  this  individual  informed  me  with  the  politest  possible  salute 
that  I  had  better  "  look  out,  as  the  Yankees  were  at  the  bridge." 

"  At  the  bridge  !     Where  ?  " 

"  At  Honey's  bridge,  just  in  front,  sir." 

This  was  the  "  unkindest  cut  of  all."  I  had  made  a  weari 
some  circuit,  reached  a  supposed  place  of  crossing — and  here 
were  my  blue  friends  again  like  a  lion  in  the  path,  rendering 
it  necessary  to  strike  still  higher  up  the  stream.  At  this  rate 
it  seemed  probable  that  I  would  be  forced  to  return  to  Peters 
burg  by  way  of  Lynchburg  and  Richmond  !  Malone's — Kir 
by's — Dinwiddie — the  enemy  were  everywhere. 


556  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

A  good  military  rule,  however,  is  to  "  believe  nothing  you 
hear,  and  only  half  you  see."  The  report  that  Federal  cavalry 
was  at  the  bridge  in  front  was  probable,  but  not  certain.  They 
might  be  Confederates  ;  and  taking  the  soldier  with  me,  I  pro 
ceeded  to  reconnoitre.  As  we  reached  the  vicinity,  the  woods 
were  seen  to  be  full  of  dismounted  cavalry,  but  whether  these 
were  Federal  or  Confederate,  it  was  impossible  to  say.  Draw 
ing  nearer,  the  men  seemed  to  be  the  latter ;  nearer  still,  and 
the  surmise. was  confirmed.  Regulation  gray  had  long  disap 
peared — our  cavalry  were  nondescript  in  costume — but  the 
sharpshooters  in  front  were  not  in  blue. 

One  came  out  to  meet  me,  carbine  ready — a  quite  useless 
precaution  it  seemed — and  the  following  dialogue  ensued :  * 

"What  command?  "  I  asked. 

"General  Lee's." 

"  Where  are  the  Yankees? " 

"  Just  over  the  bridge." 

Then  the  road  by  Dinwiddie  Court-House  was  blockaded ! 
Meditating  with  melancholy  resignation  on  this  fact,  I  uncon 
sciously  turned  my  horse's  head  from  the  bridge,  when  my 
friend  with  the  carbine  made  a  quick  step  toward  me,  and  catch 
ing  his  eye,  I  found  the  expression  of  that  member  doubtful, 
puzzled,  but  not  friendly.  In  fact  the  carbineer  had  his  weapon 
cocked,  and  was  evidently  ready  to  bestow  its  contents  on  me 
if  I  moved  a  step. 

Then,  for  the  first  time,  the  truth  flashed  on  me.  I  was  wear 
ing  a  blue  "Yankee  overcoat"  concealing  my  Confederate  uni 
form  ;  my  hat  was  nondescript ;  there  was  absolutely  nothing 
to  show  that  I  was  not  some  adventurous  Federal  officer  who 
had  crossed  the  stream  below,  come  up  the  Flat  Foot  road  in 
rear  of  the  Confederates  to  reconnoitre,  and  was  about  to  return 
with  the  information  acquired.  To  prevent  this,  my  friend 
with  the  carbine  evidently  intended  to  send  a  bullet  after  me 
as  soon  as  I  moved. 

This  comic  situation  was  a  safety  valve  for  all  ill-humour, 
and  one  of  the  men  having  run  for  his  Lieutenant,  I  gave  that 
officer  my  name  and  rank — which  announcement  was  greeted, 

35 


GENERAL  PEGRAM.  557 

however,  with  a  similar  glance  of  doubt.  A  few  words  dissi 
pated  this. 

"  Where  is  General  Lee,  Lieutenant  ?  " 

"Just  over  the  hill." 

"  I  will  go  there." 

And  accompanied  by  the  young  officer,  I  found  General  W. 
II.  F.  Lee,  who  had  been  compelled  with  his  one  or  two  hun 
dred  men — the  whole  force  of  the  regiment — to  retire  behind 
the  stream.  His  sharpshooters  were  now  posted  to  rake  the 
bridge  if  the  enemy  appeared,  and  a  mounted  party  had  been 
sent  toward  Dinwiddie  Court-House. 

After  a  few  moments'  conversation  with  General  Lee — that 
brave  and  courteous  gentleman,  whom  I  am  glad  to  call  my 
friend — I  found  that  the  reports  of  the  cavalry-men  were  cor 
rect.  The  enemy's  horse,  in  strong  force,  had  driven  him  back 
to  Dinwiddie,  and  were  then  at  the  Court-House.  General  Lee 
informed  me,  laughing,  that  in  the  charge  he  had  been  very 
nearly  stampeded  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  his  horse,  "  Fitz 
Lee,"  an  unruly  animal  of  great  power,  having  whirled  round 
at  the  first  volley  from  the  enemy,  and  nearly  carried  his  rider 
off  the  field!  In  great  disgust  at  this  unmilitary  conduct,  the 
General  had  mounted  a  more  manageable  courser. 

Whilst  the  General  was  narrating  these  particulars,  two  young 
officers  of  his  staff,  Captains  Lee  and  Dandridge,  came  in,  after 
a  hot  chase.  The  former  had  been  entirely  surrounded,  but 
kept  the  woods,  taking  advantage  of  every  opening ;  and  finally 
perceiving  an  interval  between  the  rear  of  one  Federal  cavalry 
regiment  and  the  head  of  column  of  another,  he  had  put  spurs 
to  his  horse,  charged  the  opening,  and  jumped  through.  The 
latter  officer  was  also  "cut  off,"  and  manoeuvred  in  a  similar 
manner,  when,  as  he  turned  a  bend  m  the  bridle-path  which 
he  was  following,  he  came  suddenly  upon  a  body  of  foot-sol 
diers  clad  in  dark  Hue,  with  burnished  guns  at  the  right  shoul 
der  shift,  steadily  advancing  southward.  This  was  enormously 
puzzling !  Why  should  a  Federal  infantry  battalion  be  going 
south  at  that  moment?  And  then  there  was  something  singu 
lar  in  the  uniform  and  equipments  of  the  men — very  unlike  Fed- 


558  "WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

erals.  Their  coats  were  of  navy  blue,  of  unfamiliar  cut ;  and 
they  had  cutlasses  apparently  in  their  belts. 

Captain  Dandridge  had  gazed  at  this  party  with  astonish 
ment  for  some  moments,  when  all  at  once  he  was  perceived, 
and  an  officer,  apparently,  beckoned  to  him.  To  go  or  not  to 
go — that  was  the  question  ;  but  he  finally  decided  to  approach, 
and  did  so.  Then  the  mystery  was  quickly  solved.  The  men 
in  blue  were  a  battalion  of  Confederate  marines,  and  they 
were  proceeding  toward  the  Nottoway  river  to  make  a  circuit, 
approach  James  river  far  below  City  Point,  board  and  seize 
upon  a  Federal  "ram,"  and  then  steam  up  the  James,  and 
destroy  Grant's  fleet  of  transports  at  City  Point.  This  excel 
lent  scheme  was  thoroughly  arranged ;  the  torpedoes  to  *be 
used  were  hidden  in  the  woods  of  Nottoway  ready  for  the 
party,  when  a  deserter  went  over  and  informed  the  enemy,  in 
consequence  of  which  the  expedition  was  abandoned. 

We  have  seen  how,  by  a  singular  chance,  the  battalion  set 
out  on  its  march,  armed  and  prepared,  the  very  day  that  the 
enemy's  cavalry  crossed  the  Kowanty.  More  singular  still, 
they  passed  along  in  rear  of  the  Federal  cavalry  without  dis 
covering  them  or  being  discovered.  This,  all  things  considered, 
was  one  of  the  most  curious  events  of  the  war ;  as  the  scheme 
proposed  for  the  destruction  of  the  Federal  transports  was  one 
of  the  boldest. 

General  W.  H.  F.  Lee  waited  at  Honey's  bridge  for  some 
time,  expecting  an  advance  of  the  enemy's  cavalry ;  but  none 
coming,  he  sounded  to  horse,  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  his 
small  column  of  about  eighty  or  a  hundred  men,  and  pushed 
out  toward  Dinwiddie  Court-House  to  attack  the  raiders.  Be 
fore  he  had  advanced  far,  intelligence  came  that  the  enemy  had 
evacuated  the  Court-House,  and  were  falling  back  toward  Cattail 
Creek,  in  the  vicinity  of  which  their  infantry  was  stationed. 
General  Lee  immediately  followed,  came  up  with  their  rear 
at  Cattail,  and  here  a  brief  skirmish  took  place,  j  ust  as  night 
descended.  The  lines  of  Federal  infantry  which  had  advanced 
that  day  were  discovered  ;  and  no  further  advance  in  that  direc 
tion  was  attempted,  the  cavalry  returning  toward  Dinwiddie. 


GENERAL   PEGBAM.  559 

An  odd  incident  marked  this  rapid  ride  after  the  retiring 
Federal  cavalry.  In  the  middle  of  the  road  we  found  two 
Confederate  cavalry-men  with  a  prisoner  whom  they  had 
caught,  and  the  worthy  in  question  attracted  our  attention.  He 
was  clad  in  semi-military  costume ;  a  blue-gray  overcoat  of 
fine  cloth,  with  a  long  cavalry  cape  to  it,  decorated  with  a 
dazzling  row  of  buttons ;  an  excellent  new  hat ;  arid  rode  a 
superb  horse,  which  would  have  brought  live  or  six  thousand 
dollars  in  Confederate  money. 

As  we  came  up — Captains  Robert  Lee,  Philip  Dandridge, 
and  myself — this  gentleman  complained  in  animated  terms  of 
the  immorality  involved  in  capturing  "a  non-combatant;"  he 
was  not  a  soldier,  only  the  "  correspondent  of  the  New  York 
Herald"  and  he  hoped  that  he  would  immediately  be  released. 
This  train  of  reasoning,  impressed  upon  his  listeners  in  a  most 
voluble  and  eloquent  voice,  accompanied  by  animated  gestures, 
did  not  seem  to  convince  anybody  ;  and  the  men  were  directed 
to  take  the  prisoner  back  to  Dinwiddie  Court-House,  and  as  he 
was  evidently  a  man  of  decision  and  resources,  "  shoot  him  if 
he  tried  to  escape,  making  no  attempt  to  recapture  him." 

He  was  accordingly  started  back,  under  convoy  of  the  two 
cavalry-men,  and  had  proceeded  about  three  or  four  hundred 
yards,  when  our  attention  was  attracted  to  him  again  by  an 
outcry  in  that  direction.  Turning  round,  we  saw  that  some 
thing  curious  was  going  on,  and  hastily  spurred  to  the  scene. 
Lo !  as  we  approached,  there  was  the  prisoner  scudding  across 
the  field,  his  cape  floating  in  the  wind,  his  horse  at  a  full  run, 
pursued  by  carbine-balls !  None  struck  him,  however ;  and  in 
a  moment  he  had  disappeared  in  the  belt  of  woods  near  at 
hand,  in  which  \&y  perdus  the  line  of  Federal  infantry. 

A  few  words  from  the  chop-fallen  cavaliy-men  and  an  old 
negro,  at  a  small  house  near  by,  explained  everything.  Three 
or  four  Federal  cavalry-men  had  been  left  behind  by  their  com 
rades  on  the  retreat,  and  had  stopped  at  the  house  to  ask  the 
way  to  their  lines.  "While  thus  employed,  the  prisoner  and  his 
escort  came  by  ;  the  Federal  cavalry-men  rushed  forth  to  the 
rescue,  u  put  their  pistols  "  on  the  unsuspecting  escort,  and 


560  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

now  both  rescuers  and  rescued  were  safe  within  their  own 
lines ! 

The  whole  affair  was  truly  laughable,  and  the  gallant  "  cor 
respondent  "  deserved  his  good  fortune,  since  he  made  a  true 
John  Gilpin  run  for  liberty.  I  did  not  grudge  him  the  enjoy 
ment  thereof  at  all,  but  must  confess  to  a  keen  feeling  of  regret 
at  the  loss  of  his  horse.  He  appeared  to  be  an  excellent 
animal ;  and  to  "  covet  your  neighbour's  horse,"  if  he  chanced 
to  be  desirable,  was  in  those  days  the  besetting  sin  of  every 
true  cavalry-man  ! 


n. 


At  nightfall  General  Lee  retired  from  Cattail  Creek  toward 
Dinwiddie  Court-House,  the  enemy  having  returned  within 
their  lines;  and  I  determined  to  continue  my  way  to  Peters 
burg,  where  duty  called  me. 

There  was  reason  to  doubt,  however,  the  practicability  of 
this  journey — at  least  over  the  regular  "  Boydton  road." 
Simultaneous  with  the  advance  of  the  Federal  cavalry,  their 
infantry  had  moved  toward  the  Southside  road ;  a  severe 
engagement  had  taken  place  on  the  Quaker  road ;  and  the 
Federal  infantry  was  known  to  have  remained  in  its  position, 
its  left  probably  across,  or  resting  upon  the  Boydton  road. 
Now,  as  above  intimated,  it  was  necessary  to  follow  this  Boydton 
road  to  reach  Petersburg  that  night.  I  determined  to  try,  and 
so  informed  General  Lee,  who  thereupon  requested  me  to  carry 
a  dispatch  which  he  had  just  written,  to  General  Gordon,  com 
manding  the  right  of  the  army  near  Burgess',  with  an  oral 
message,  information,  etc.,  in  reference  to  the  cavalry  move 
ment. 

A  small  detachment  of  cavalry,  belonging  to  Colonel  Phil 
lips'  command,  then  on  the  right  of  the  army,  was  placed  at 
my  orders ;  and  setting  out  about  night,  we  soon  debouched 
upon  the  Boydton  road,  where  at  every  step  traces  of  the 
Federal  forces  were  met  with — the  raiders  having  harried  the 


GENERAL   PEGRAM.  561 

whole  region  —  and  some  prisoners  captured.  The  vicinity  of 
the  bridge  over  Gravelly  Kim  was  thus  reached,  and  beyond 
the  bridge  glimmered  the  fires  of  a  picket. 

The  question  of  greatest  interest  was  whether  the  picket  was 
Federal  or  Confederate.  The  enemy's  left  was  certainly  near 
this  point,  but  so  was  our  right.  The  plain  method  of  deciding 
was  to  try,  and  this  was  done  —  the  cavalry  detachment  halting 
a  hundred  yards  off.  Riding  on  the  bridge,  I  found  the  plank 
ing  torn  up,  and  in  the  centre  a  "  yawning  gulf;  "  at  the  same 
moment  a  voice  came  from  beyond,  ordering  "halt!"  The 
following  dialogue  then  took  place  : 

"  Well,  I  have  halted." 

"  Who  are  you  ?  " 

"  Friends." 

"  Advance  one." 

"  Impossible  —  the  bridge  is  torn  up." 

"  What  command  do  you  belong  to  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  belong  to  ?  " 

"  I  ask  who  you  are  !  " 

"  Do  you  belong  to  Colonel  Phillips'  regiment  1  " 


This  reply  was  discouraging.  Colonel  Phillips  held  the 
extreme  right  ;  this  should  be  his  picket  ;  as  it  was  not,  the 
probabilities  appeared  to  be  in  favour  of  the  Federal  picket- 
view.  Under  the  circumstances,  the  next  course  seemed  to  be 
a  rapid  "  about  face,"  the  use  of  the  spur,  and  a  quick  retreat, 
taking  the  chances  of  a  bullet.  The  sudden  click  of  a  trigger 
interrupted  these  reflections,  and  my  friend  in  the  dark  said 
briefly  : 

"I  asked  what  command  you  belonged  to  !  " 

Something  in  the  tone  of  the  voice  struck  me  as  Southern, 
and  I  replied  : 

"  Well,  I  don't  believe  you  are  a  Yankee  ;  I  belong  to  Gen 
eral  Lee's  army." 

"  All  right  ;  so  do  we,"  was  the  answer.  "  You  can  come 
over  at  the  ford  yonder." 

"What  brigade  is  yours?" 
36 


562  WEARING    OF   THE   GRAY. 

"  General  Pegram's." 

This  reply  ended  all  doubt.  Pegram  I  knew  was  on  Gor 
don's  extreme  right.  Not  finding  General  Gordon,  1  had  been 
requested  by  General  Lee  to  communicate  with  Pegram. 

His  headquarters  were  near  the  junction  of  the  Boy  d  ton  and 
Quaker  roads ;  and  having  turned  over  the  cavalry  detachment 
to  Colonel  Phillips,  I  entered  the  old  wooden  building  and 
found  General  John  Pegram. 

This  gallant  young  officer  had  been  my  school-fellow  and 
intimate  friend  in  boyhood;  and  I  had  seen  him  every  day 
almost  until  his  departure  for  West  Point.  After  graduating 
there  he  had  entered  the  cavalry,  served  on  the  prairies,  and 
in  1861  returned  to  offer  his  sword  to  Virginia,  where  he  was 
received  in  a  manner  highly  flattering,  and  placed  in  command 
of  the  forces  near  Rich  Mountain.  The  unfortunate  result  of 
that  campaign  is  known,  and  the  proud  and  sensitive  spirit  of 
the  young  soldier  was  deeply  wounded.  In  spite  of  the  assu 
rances  of  brave  and  skilful  soldiers  that  the  issue  there  was 
unavoidable,  considering  the  great  force  brought  against  him, 
he  persisted  in  brooding  over  it.  "  It  would  always  be  known 
as  '  Pegram's  surrender,'  "  he  said.  It  was  soon  forgotten,  how 
ever  ;  greater  events  and  greater  disasters  threw  it  in  the  back 
ground,  and  the  young  soldier  fought  his  way  to  high  repute  in 
the  Southern  army.  On  the  night  when  I  met  him,  in  Febru 
ary,  1865,  he  was  commanding  the  advance  brigade  of  General 
Lee's  right  wing,  and  had  held  his  ground  all  day  against  the 
severest  assaults  of  the  enemy. 

The  cordial  greeting  of  two  friends,  after  long  separation, 
over,  General  Pegram  mounted  his  horse  to  ride  with  me  to 
General  Gordon's,  beyond  Burgess'  mill,  and  on  the  way  we 
dropped  military  affairs  entirely,  to  revert  to  scenes  which  had 
taken  place  twenty  years  before,  and  speak  of  the  "  old  fami 
liar  faces"  and  things  long  previous  to  the  war.  If  it  were 
necessary  I  could  recall  the  entire  conversation — the  very 
words  uttered  by  my  companion — for  the  sad  event  of  the 
next  day  engraved  the  whole  upon  my  memory.  In  the  voice 
of  the  speaker  there  was  a  peculiar  sadness,  a  species  of  melan- 


GENERAL   PEGRAM.  563 

choly  depression,  which  it  was  impossible  not  to  observe. 
Something  seemed  to  weigh  upon  his  mind,  and  the  handsome 
features  of  the  young  soldier  (he  was  only  about  thirty),  writh 
the  clear  dark  eye,  the  gallant  moustache,  and  the  broad,  fine 
brow,  were  overshadowed  by  a  heavy  cloud.  This  obvious 
depression,  however,  did  not  render  him  cold  or  distrait — 
rather  the  contrary.  He  spoke  of  old  friends  and  comrades 
with  the  greatest  affection  and  kindness ;  referred  with  some 
thing  very  like  womanly  tenderness  to  a  dear  younger  brother 
of  his  listener,  dead  many  years  before;  and  the  pleat,  a  re 
which  he  derived  from  this  return  to  the  careless  past  was 
unmistakable.  But  throughout  all  was  that  undertone  of  sad 
ness  which  I  remembered  afterwards,  and  could  not  forbear 
regarding  as  the  evidence  of  some  mysterious  presentiment. 

This  did  not  change  at  all  when,  after  a  ride  of  two  or  three 
miles  we  reached  General  Gordon's,  and  were  shown  to  the 
General's  chamber.  General  G.'s  cheery  voice,  as  he  smoked  his 
cigar  and  discussed  the  events  of  the  day,  did  not  make  my 
companion  smile. 

"  Do  you  expect  a  renewal  of  the  attack  to-morrow,  Gen 
eral  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Not  on  this  side  of  the  run,  but  I  think  it  probable  they 
will  make  a  heavy  attack  on  General  Pegram  in  the  morning." 

The  person  thus  alluded  to  was  carefully  examining  a  topo 
graphical  map  at  the  moment ;  and  his  countenance  and  atti 
tude  exhibited  unmistakable  depression  and  languor.  When 
we  rose  to  go,  the  expression  had  not  changed.  As  we  shook 
hands,  he  addressed  me  by  the  name  which  he  had  used  when 
we  were  school-fellows  together,  and  said  :  "  Come  and  see  me 
whenever  you  can."  And  that  pressure  of  the  kind,  brave 
hand,  that  utterance  of  the  good  friendly  voice,  was  the  last 
for  me.  On  the  next  day  the  attack  anticipated  by  General 
Gordon  took  place,  and  General  Pegram  was  killed  while  gal 
lantly  leading  his  men. 

Such  was  the  soldierly  ending  of  this  brave  young  Yirgi- 
nian.  He  had  been  married  only  a  few  weeks  to  a  young  lady 
of  rare  beauty,  and  life  seemed  to  open  for  him  all  flowers  and 


f>64*  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

sunshine ;  but  the  thunderbolt  had  struck  him ;  his  brave 
blood  went  to  swell  that  great  torrent  poured  out  by  the  gal- 
lantest  souls  of  the  South. 

This  hasty  sketch — beginning  with  jests,  and  ending  in  some 
thing  like  tears — has  aimed,  in  part,  to  record  that  presentiment 
which  the  young  soldier  seemed  to  have  of  his  approaching 
fate.  Wholly  incredulous  as  the  writer  is  of  such  warnings, 
it  is  impossible  for  him  to  banish  from  his  mind  the  fancy  that 
something  conveyed  to  the  young  soldier  a  premonition  of  the 
coming  event.  But  he  did  his  duty  all  the  same,  dying  in 
harness  like  a  good  soldier  of  the  South. 

*  The  lapse  of  twenty  pages  after  564  is  accounted  for  by  omitting  to  uumtxtf 
the  illustrations  in  their  order.  See  list  of  illustrations. 


,,,,'^i 


V. 

LEE'S  LAST  BATTLES. 


I. 


GENERAL  LEE'S  retreat  from  Petersburg  will  rank  among  the 
most  remarkable  events  of  history.  As  every  circumstance 
connected  with  it  will  prove  interesting  hereafter,  when  the 
full  history  of  this  period  comes  to  be  written,  I  propose  to 
record  some  particulars  which  carne  under  my  observation  ; 
and  especially  to  describe  the  bearing  of  the  illustrious  Com- 
mander-in-Chief  of  the  Confederate  forces  while  passing  through 
this  tremendous  ordeal. 

An  adequate  record  of  this  brief  and  fiery  drama — played 
from  the  first  to  the  last  scene  in  a  few  April  days — would 
involve  the  question  of  General  Lee's  soldiership.  This  ques 
tion  I  have  neither  time  nor  space  to  discuss  ;  but  I  am  much 
mistaken  if  a  simple  statement  will  not  set  at  rest  for  ever 
those  imputations  which  have  been  cast,  since  the  surrender, 
upon  Lee's  military  judgment,  by  ignorant  or  stupid  persons 
throughout  the  country.  The  facts  ought  to  be  placed  on 
record.  If  General  Lee  continued,  of  his  own  choice,  to  occupy 
a  position  at  Petersburg  from  which,  as  events  soon  showed, 
he  could  not  extricate  his  army,  it  will  go  far  to  rob  him  of 
that  renown  which  he  had  previously  won  ;  and  if  General 
Grant  out-manoeuvred  and  caught  his  great  adversary  by  simple 
superiority  of  soldiership,  he  is  the  greater  general  of  the  two. 
The  truth  of  the  whole  matter  is  that  Lee  was  not  surprised  ; 
that  he  foresaw  clearly  what  was  coming;  and  acted  from 


086  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

first  to  last  under  orders  against  which  his  military  judgment 
revolted. 

Orders  were  given  by  General  Lee  for  the  evacuation  of 
Petersburg,  and,  consequently,  of  the  State  of  Virginia,  at 
least  six  weeks  before  General  Grant  broke  through  the  Con 
federate  lines.  The  military  necessity  for  this  movement  was 
perfectly  plain  to  all  well-informed  and  intelligent  persons,  in 
the  army  and  out  of  it.  It  was  only  the  ignorant  or  the  hope 
lessly  stupid  who  cherished  the  hallucination  that  Lee  could 
continue  to  hold  his  works  around  Petersburg  against  Grant's 
enormous  force.  Nevertheless  there  were  a  plenty  who  did 
think  so,  and  who  looked  upon  things  there  as  a  sort  of 
"  permanent  arrangement."  Lee,  in  the  estimation  of  these 
persons,  was  the  spoiled  child  of  good  fortune,  greater  than 
fate,  and  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  could  not  be  whipped. 
The  Southern  lines  were  to  be  held  en  permanence,  and  Grant 
was  to  "  keep  pegging  away"  until  the  crack  of  doom.  Such 
was  the  fond  delusion  of  all  the  "  outside  "  class ;  those  who 
were  accurately  informed,  and  took  the  "  inside  "  view,  knew 
better ;  and  especially  did  General  Lee  know  that  unless  he 
was  speedily  reinforced,  he  could  not  continue  to  hold  his 
lines  against  the  large  and  steady  reinforcements  sent  to 
General  Grant.  "  More  men  ;  give  me  more  men  !  "  was  the 
burden  of  his  despatches  to  the  government.  He  had  nearly 
fifty  miles  of  earthworks  to  defend  against  three  or  four  times 
his  own  numbers  ;  and  a  child  might  have  understood  that  if 
Grant  continued  to  receive  heavy  reinforcements,  and  Lee 
none,  while  his  army  continued  to  diminish  from  casualties, 
the  time  would  soon  come  when  retreat  or  surrender  would  be 
the  only  alternatives.  The  reinforcements  did  not  come, 
however.  The  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  went  on  dwindling, 
and  Grant  continued  to  increase  his  strength,  until  at  the  end 
of  winter  the  result  of  the  coming  campaign  no  longer  admitted 
of  a  doubt.  The  crisis  had  evidently  come,  and  it  was 
perfectly  plain  that  Lee  must  evacuate  Virginia.  All  his 
prominent  Generals  shared  his  views.  One  of  them  said  :  "  If 
Grant  once  breaks  through  our  line^,  we  might  as  well  go 


587 

back  to  Father  Abraham,  and  say,  '  Father,  we  have  sinned.'  " 
If  anything  was  plain  it  was  this :  that  if  the  immense  line  of 
Lee's  works  was  broken  anywhere,  he  was  lost. 

It  is  certainly  nothing  very  remarkable  that  under  these  cir 
cumstances  General  Lee  should  make  an  attempt  to  save  his 
army — the  only  hope  of  the  Confederacy.  There  was  only  one 
way  to  do  it,  and  the  opportunity  of  embracing  that  sole  means 
was  rapidly  slipping  away.  General  Lee  must  move,  if  he 
moved  at  all,  on  the  line  of  the  Southside  Railroad  toward 
Danville,  and  he  must  move  at  once;  for  General  Grant,  who 
knew  perfectly  well  the  necessities  of  his  adversary,  was  pour 
ing  heavy  columns  toward  Hatcher's  Run,  to  intercept  him  if  he 
made  the  attempt.  The  Federal  army  was  kept  ready  day 
and  night,  with  rations  cooked  and  in  haversacks,  for  instant 
pursuit ;  and  each  of  the  great  opponents  understood  completely 
his  adversary's  design.  General  Grant  knew  that  General  Lee 
ought  to  retreat,  and  he  had  learned  the  important  maxim  that 
it  is  always  best  to  give  your  enemy  credit  for  intending  to  do 
what  he  ought  to  do.  If  Lee  moved  promptly  toward  Danville, 
every  effort  would  be  made  to  come  up  with  and  destroy  him ; 
if  he  did  not  retreat,  time  would  be  allowed  the  Federal  army 
to  gradually  tight  its  way  to  the  Southside  road.  Once  lodged 
upon  that  great  artery  of  the  Southern  army,  Grant  had  check 
mated  his  opponent. 

Upon  this  obvious  view  of  the  situation,  General  Lee,  in 
February,  issued  orders  for  the  removal  of  all  the  stores  of  the 
army  to  Amelia  Court-House,  on  the  road  to  Danville.  A 
movement  of  this  sort  is,  of  course,  impossible  of  concealment, 
and  the  whole  army  soon  knew  that  something  was  "  in  the 
wind."  Government  cotton  and  tobacco  was  hauled  away  from 
Petersburg  ;  hundreds  of  the  inhabitants  left  the  place  ;  all  the 
surplus  artillery  was  sent  to  Amelia  Court-House,  and  even  the 
reserve  ordnance  train  of  the  army  was  ordered  to  the  same 
point.  Then  suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  all,  the  movement 
stopped.  The  authorities  at  Richmond  had  said,  "Hold  your 
position."  Lee  countermanded  his  orders  and  awaited  his  fate. 
I  say  awaited  his/ate,  because  I  arn  perfectly  well  convinced 


588  WEARING   OF   THE   GRAY. 

that  from  that  moment  he  regarded  the  event  as  a  mere  question 
of  time.  No  reinforcements  reached  him,  while  Grant  grew 
stronger  every  day  by  reinforcements  from  Washington  and 
Sherman's  army — two  corps  from  the  latter — and  soon  he  had 
at  his  command  Sheridan's  excellent  force  of  12,000  or  15,000 
cavalry.  He  was  pushing  heavy  columns,  one  after  another, 
toward  the  Southside  road,  and  at  any  moment  a  general  attack 
might  be  expected  all  along  the  lines,  while  the  elite  of  the 
Federal  force  was  thrown  against  Lee's  right.  Such  an  assault, 
in  his  enfeebled  condition,  was  more  than  General  Lee  could 
bustain,  unless  he  stripped  his  works  elsewhere  of  all  their 
defenders;  but  a  brave  effort  was  made  to  prepare  for  the  coin 
ing  storm,  and  Lee  evidently  determined  to  stand  at  bay  anfl 
fight  to  the  last.  The  expected  attack  soon  came.  Grant 
rapidly  concentrated  his  army  (amounting,  General  Meade 
stated  at  Appomattox  Court-House,  to  about  140,000  men)  on 
Lee's  right,  near  Burgess'  Mill ;  his  most  efficient  corps  of  in 
fantry  and  cavalry  were  thrown  forward,  and  a  desperate  attack 
was  made  upon  the  Confederate  works  on  the  White-oak  road. 
A  bloody  repulse  awaited  the  first  assault,  but  the  second  was 
successful.  At  the  same  time  the  lines  near  Petersburg  were 
broken  by  a  great  force,  and  the  affair  was  decided.  The  Con 
federate  army  was  cut  in  two ;  the  enemy  held  the  Southside 
Railroad,  intercepting  the  line  of  retreat ;  and  what  Lee's  clear 
military  judgment  had  foreseen  had  come  to  pass.  Between 
his  40,000  men  and  Danville  were  the  140,000  men  of  Grant. 


II. 

I  should  think  it  impossible  even  for  his  worst  enemy  to 
regard  the  situation  of  this  truly  great  man  at  the  moment  in 
question  without  a  certain  sympathy  and  respect.  He  was  not 
Commander-in-Chief  only,  but  the  whole  Southern  Confederacy 
himself — carrying  upon  his  shoulders  the  heavy  weight  of  the 
public  care.  Every  confidence  was  felt  in  the  patriotism  and 
sincere  devotion  of  President  Davis  to  the  Southern  cause — but 


589 

there  was  a  very  general  distrust  of  his  judgment,  and  his 
administration  had  not  made  him  popular.  Lee,  on  the  contra 
ry,  was  the  idol  almost  of  the  people  ;  and  it  was  to  him  that  the 
South  looked  in  this  dark  hour,  calling  on  him  for  deliverance, 

Up  to  this  moment  he  ha4  been  in  a  condition  to  meet  his 
great  responsibility.  In  a  campaign  of  unexampled  fury,  drag 
ging  its  bloody  steps  from  the  Rappahannock  to  the  Appo- 
mattox,  he  had  held  his  lines  against  almost  overwhelming 
assaults,  foiling  an  adversary  of  acknowledged  genius,  com 
manding  a  superb  army.  Against  this  army,  constantly  rein 
forced,  he  had  continued  to  hold  the  works  around  Petersburg, 
and  protect  the  capital ;  and  to  him,  amid  the  gloom  and  depres 
sion,  all  had  looked  as  to  their  sole  hope.  There  was  no  pos 
sibility  of  General  Lee  himself  escaping  a  knowledge  of  this 
fact.  It  was  in  the  faces  and  the  words  of  men  ;  in  the  columns 
of  the  newspapers ;  in  the  very  air  that  was  breathed.  Good 
men  wrote  to  him  not  to  expose  himself,  for  if  he  fell  all  was 
over.  In  brief  words,  the  whole  country  agreed  that  in  this  man 
and  his  army  lay  the  only  hope  of  the  Southern  Confederacy. 

If  the  reader  realizes  what  I  have  thus  tried  to  express,  he 
ma}7  form  some  idea  of  the  crushing  ordeal  through  whicli 
General  Lee  was,  on  the  2d  of  April,  called  upon  to  pass. 

The  brief  particulars  about  to  be  set  down  may  furnish  the 
candid  historian  of  the  future  with  material  to  form  an  unbiassed 
judgment  of  General  Lee  and  his  retreat.  I  am  mistaken  if 
the  narrative,  however  brief  and  incomplete,  does  not  show  the 
great  proportions  and  noble  character  of  the  individual — his 
constancy  under  heavy  trials,  and  his  majestic  equanimity  in 
face  of  a  misfortune  the  most  cruel,  perhaps,  which  a  soldier 
can  be  called  on  to  bear. 

Soon  after  sunrise  on  the  2d  of  April  the  Federal  columns, 
in  heavy  mass,  advanced  from  the  outer  line  of  works,  which 
they  had  carried  at  daybreak,  to  attack  General  Lee  in  his 
inner  intrenchments  near  Petersburg.  When  the  present  writ 
er  reached  the  vicinity  of  army  headquarters,  on  the  Cox  road, 
west  of  the  city,  a  Federal  column  was  rapidly  advancing  to 
charge  a  battery  posted  in  the  open  field  to  the  right  of  the 


590  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

house,  and  at  that  time  firing  rapidly.  General  Lee  was  in 
the  lawn  in  front  of  his  Headquarters,  looking  through  his 
glasses  at  the  column  as  it  moved  at  a  double  quick  across  the 
fields  ;  and  knowing  the  terrible  significance  of  the  advantage 
which  the  Federal  troops  had  gained,  I  looked  at  the  General 
to  ascertain,  if  possible,  what  he  thought  of  it.  He  never  ap 
peared  more  calm ;  and  if  the  affair  had  been  a  review,  he 
could  not  have  exhibited  loss  emotion  of  any  description.  In 
full  uniform,  with  his  gold-hilted  sword,  and  perfectly  quiet 
look,  he  appeared  to  be  witnessing,  with  simple  curiosity,  some 
military  parade.  But  this  "dress"  costume  was  assumed,  it  is 
said,  with  another  view.  He  had  dressed  himself  that  morn 
ing,  I  afterwards  heard,  with  scrupulous  care,  and  buckled  on 
his  finest  sword,  declaring  that  if  he  was  captured  he  would  be 
taken  in  full  harness. 

The  movement  of  the  Federal  column  became  more  rapid, 
and  the  battery  was  soon  charged ;  but  it  succeeded  in  gallop 
ing  off  under  a  heavy  fire  of  musketry.  The  column  then 
pressed  on,  and  the  Federal  artillery  opened  a  heavy  fire  on 
the  hill,  before  which  the  Southern  guns — there  was  no  infantry 
— withdrew,  General  Lee  retired  slowly  with  his  artillery,  rid 
ing  his  well-known  iron  gray  ;  and  one  person,  at  least,  in  the 
company  forgot  the  shell  and  sharpshooters,  looking  at  the  su 
perb  old  cavalier,  erect  as  an  arrow,  and  as  calm  as  a  May 
morning.  When  he  said  to  an  officer  near,  "  This  is  a  bad  busi 
ness,  Colonel,"  there  was  no  excitement  in  his  voice,  or  indeed 
any  change  whatsoever  in  its  grave  and  courteous  tones.  A 
slight  flush  came  to  his  face,  however,  a  moment  afterwards. 
A  shell  from  the  Federal  batteries,  fired  at  the  group,  burst 
almost  upon  him,  killing  a  horse  near  by,  and  cutting  bridle- 
reins.  This  brought  a  decided  expression  of  "fight"  to  the 
old  soldier's  face,  and  he  probably  felt  as  he  did  in  Culpeper 
when  the  disaster  of  Rappahannock  bridge  occurred — when  he 
muttered,  General  Stuart  told  me,  "  I  should  now  like  to  go  into 
a  charge ! " 

These  details  may  appear  trivial.     But  the  demeanour  of 
public  men  on  great  occasions  is  legitimate,  and  not  uninter- 


591 

esting  matter  for  history.  General  Lee's  personal  bearing 
upon  this  critical  occasion,  when  he  saw  himself  about  to  be 
subjected  to  the  greatest  humiliation  to  the  pride  of  a  soldier — 
capture — was  admirably  noble  and  serene.  It  was  impossible 
not  to  be  struck  with  the  grandeur  of  his  appearance — no  other 
phrase  describes  it :  or  to  refrain  from  admiring  the  princely 
air  with  which  the  old  cavalry  officer  sat  his  horse.  With  his 
calm  and  thoughtful  eye,  and  perfect  repose  of  manner  visible 
in  spite  of  the  restive  movements  of  his  horse,  frightened  by 
the  firing,  it  was  hard  to  believe  that  he  saw  there  was  no  hope, 
— and  for  himself,  would  have  cared  little  if  one  of  the  bullets 
singing  around  had  found  its  mark  in  his  breast. 


III. 

In  ten  minutes  the  Federal  troops  had  formed  line  of  battle 
in  front  of  the  Headquarters,  and  a  thin  line  of  Confederate 
infantry  manned  the  badly-constructed  works  on  the  Cox  road. 
If  the  Federal  line  of  battle — now  visible  in  huge  mass — had 
advanced  at  once,  they  would  have  found  opposed  to  them  only 
two  small  brigades,  which  would  not  have  been  a  good  mouth 
ful.  The  amusing  thing  was  to  hear  the  "  ragged  rebels  " — 
and  they  were  very  ragged — laughing  as  they  looked  at  the 
heavy  line  apparently  about  to  charge  them,  and  crying  :  "  Let 

'em  come  on  !  we'll  give  'em !  "  Gordon  was  meanwhile 

thundering  on  the  left  of  Petersburg,  and  holding  his  lines  with 
difficulty,  and  at  night  one  point  at  least  was  gained.  The 
surrender  would  not  take  place  there.  Where  it  would  be  was 
not  yet  decided. 

Before  morning  the  army  had  been  moved  to  the  northern 
bank  of  the  Appomattox ;  the  glare  and  roar  of  the  blown-up 
magazines  succeeded  ;  and  accompanied  by  the  unwieldy  trains, 
loaded  with  the  miserable  rubbish  of  winter  quarters,  the 
troops  commenced  their  march  up  the  Appomattox,  toward  the 
upper  bridges. 

General  Lee  was  on  his  gray  horse,  leading  his  army  in  per- 


592  WEARING   OF  THE   GRAY. 

son  ;  there  were  no  longer  any  lines  to  defend,  any  earthworks 
to  hold ;  the  army  was  afloat,  and  instead  of  being  depressed, 
they  seemed  in  excellent  spirits.  But  the  drama  had  only  com 
menced. 

The  great  game  of  chess  between  Grant  and  Lee  commenced 
on  the  morning  of  the  3d  of  April ;  the  one  aiming  if  possible 
to  extricate  his  army,  the  other  to  cut  off  and  capture,  or  de 
stroy  it. 

The  relative  numbers  of  the  opposing  forces  can  only  be 
stated  in  round  numbers.  I  understood  afterwards  that  General 
Meade  stated  the  Federal  force  to  amount  to  about  one  hundred 
and  forty  thousand  men.  That  of  General  Lee  did  not  exceed, 
if  it  reached,  forty  thousand.  So  great  had  been  the  drain' 
upon  this  historic  army  from  the  casualties  of  the  past  year, 
from  absence  with  and  without  leave,  and  other  causes,  that 
— deprived  of  all  reinforcements — it  was  now  weaker  than  it 
had  probably  ever  been  before.  General  Meade,  it  is  said,  ex 
pressed  extreme  astonishment  to  General  Lee  when  informed 
of  his  small  numbers,  declaring  that  if  General  Grant  had  sus 
pected  this  weakness,  he  would  have  long  before  broken  through 
the  Confederate  lines.  The  statement  was  natural,  and  Gene 
ral  Meade  doubtless  believed  in  the  ability  of  the  Federal  army 
to  have  done  so ;  but  it  is  certain  that  General  Grant  made  per 
sistent  and  desperate  attempts  to  accomplish  this  very  object, 
in  which  his  adversary,  by  rapid  movements  of  his  small  force 
from  point  to  point,  and  obstinate  fighting,  had  invariably 
foiled  him. 

To  return  to  the  retreat.  The  Southern  army  had  been  so 
long  cooped  up  in  its  hovels  and  casemates — moving  only  by 
stealth  along  "  covered-ways  " — that  any  movement  anywhere 
was  a  relief.  In  addition  to  this,  the  troops  had  not  yet  had 
time  to  reflect.  The  sensation  of  being  driven  from  their  earth 
works — now  like  home  to  them — was  stunning  ;  and  the  men 
did  not  at  once  realize  the  tremendous  change  which  had  all  at 
once  taken  place  in  the  aspect  of  affairs.  No  man  seemed  yet 
to  have  persuaded  himself  of  the  fact  that  "  General  Lee's 
Army,"  which  only  yesterday  had  held  the  long  lines,  in  defi- 


598 

finee  of  all  comers,  was  to-day  in  full  retreat,  and  bent  first  of 
all  upon  escaping  from  the  enemy  they  had  so  often  defeated. 

Gradually,  however,  the  unhappy  condition  of  affairs  began 
to  dawn  upon  the  troops  ;  and  all  at  once  they  looked  the  ter 
rible  fact  in  the  face.  General  Lee  was  retreating  from  Vir 
ginia — most  depressing  of  events ! — -and  it  was  even  a  matter 
of  very  extreme  doubt  whether  he  could  accomplish  even  that 
mn oil.  No  troops  were  ever  better  informed  upon  military 
affairs  than  those  of  the  South ;  and  the  private  soldier  dis 
cussed  the  chances  with  a  topographical  knowledge  which  could 
not  have  been  surpassed  by  a  general  officer  with  a  map  before 
him.  I  heard  one  brave  tatterdemalion,  evidently  from  the 
backwoods,  say,  "  Grant  is  trying  to  cut  off  old  Uncle  Robert 
at  Burkesville  Junction ;"  and  another  replied,  "  Grant  can 
get  there  first."  There,  in  a  few  words,  was  the  essence  of  the 
"situation." 

General  Grant  held  the  Southside  Railroad,  and  was  pouring 
forward  troops  under  Sheridan  toward  the  Danville  Railroad, 
to  which  he  had  a  straight  cut  without  a  particle  of  obstruction, 
except  a  small  force  of  cavalry — less  than  two  thousand  effective 
men — under  General  Fitz  Lee.  General  Lee,  on  the  contrary, 
was  moving  by  a  circuitous  route  on  the  north  bank  of  the  Ap- 
pomattox,  encumbered  by  a  huge  wagon-train,  and  having  in 
front  of  him  a  swollen  river,  which  proved  a  terrible  delay  to 
him  at  the  moment  when  every  instant  counted.  So  great  were 
the  obstacles,  that  General  Grant  could  have  intercepted  the 
Southern  column,  had  he  made  extraordinary  exertions,  even  at 
Amelia  Court-House.  General  Lee  did  not  succeed  in  reach 
ing  that  point  until  Wednesday,  the  5th — the  bridges  over  the 
Appomattox  being  swept  away  or  rendered  useless  by  the 
freshet  which  had  covered  the  low  grounds  and  prevented 
access  to  them.  The  troops  finally  crossed  on  pontoons  at 
two  or  three  places;  and,  although  suffering  seriously  from 
want  of  rations,  pushed  forward  in  good  spirits  to  Amelia  Court- 
Flouse. 

Up  to  this  time  there  had  been  very  few  stragglers,  the  Vir 
ginia  troops  turning  their  backs  upon  their  homes  without 


594:  WEARING   OF   THE   GRAY. 

complaint,  and  satisfied  to  follow  "  Old  Uncle  Robert " 
wherever  he  led  them.  The  statement  that  desertions  of  Vir 
ginians  had  taken  place  is  untrue.  They  marched  with  their 
brethren  from  the  Gulf  States  cheerfully  ;  and  it  was  only 
afterward,  when  broken  down  by  starvation,  that  they  dropped 
out  of  the  ranks.  That  some,  seeing  the  sure  fate  before  them 
— surrender,  and,  as  they  supposed,  long  incarceration  in  a 
Northern  prison — left  their  ranks  during  the  last  hours  of  the 
retreat,  is  also  true ;  but,  a  few  hours  after  they  thus  left  their 
colours,  it  was  the  general  officers  who  looked  out  for  avenues 
of  exit  through  the  Federal  cordon  closing  around,  to  avoid 
the  inevitable  surrender ;  and  who  said  to  their  men,  "  Save 
yourselves  in  any  way  you  can." 

The  scene  at  Amelia  Court-House  on  Wednesday  was  a 
curious  one.  The  huge  army  trains  were  encamped  in  the 
suburbs  of  the  pretty  little  village,  and  the  travel-worn  troops 
bivouacked  in  the  fields.  They  were  still  in  good  spirits,  and 
plainly  had  an  abiding  confidence  in  their  great  commander. 
The  brigades,  though  thinned  by  their  heavy  losses  at  Peters 
burg,  still  presented  a  defiant  front ;  and  the  long  lines  of  vete 
rans  with  bristling  bayonets,  led  by  Longstreet,  Gordon,  and 
Mahone,  advanced  as  proudly  as  they  had  done  in  the  hard 
conflicts  of  the  past.  The  troops  were  still  in  excellent  morale, 
and  had  never  been  readier  for  desperate  fighting  than  at  that 
moment.  Men  and  officers  were  tired  and  hungry,  but  laugh 
ing  ;  and  nowhere  could  be  seen  a  particle  of  gloom,  or  shrink 
ing,  or  ill-humour — sure  symptoms  in  the  human  animal  of  a 
want  of  "  heart  of  hope."  I  will  add  that  I  saw  little  of  it  to 
the  end. 

The  unavoidable  delay  in  crossing  the  Appomattox  had  given 
General  Grant  time  to  mass  a  heavy  force — as  General  Meade's 
report  shows — at  Burkesville  Junction  ;  and  if  it  was  General 
Lee's  intention  to  advance  on  the  east  side  of  the  Danville  road, 
he  gave  it  up.  I  believe,  however,  that  such  was  never  his 
design.  His  trains  were  directed  to  move  through  Cumber 
land,  Prince  Edward,  and  Campbell,  toward  Pittsylvania  ;  and 
the  army  would  naturally  keep  near  enough  to  protect  them, 


LEE'S  LAST  BATTLES.  595 

moving  south  ward  between  the  Junction  and  Farmville.  While 
the  troops  were  resting  at  Amelia  Court- House,  and  waiting 
for  the  rear  to  come  up,  the  Federal  commander  must  have 
pushed  forward  with  great  rapidity.  His  cavalry  was  already 
scouring  the  country  far  in  advance  of  the  Confederate  column, 
and  the  numbers  and  excellence  of  this  branch  of  their  service 
gave  them  a  fatal  advantage.  The  reserve  train,  containing 
nearly  all  the  ammunition  of  the  Southern  army,  was  attacked 
and  burned  near  Paynesville,  and  the  fate  awaiting  other  por 
tions  of  the  army  train  was  foreseen.  Its  unwieldy  size  and 
slow  movement  made  it  an  easy  prey  ;  and  it  was  incessantl^ 
attacked,  and  large  sections  carried  off  or  destroyed.  So  nu 
merous  were  these  captures,  that  nearly  the  whole  subsistence 
of  the  army  was  lost ;  and  from  this  time  commenced  the  really 
distressing  scenes  of  the  inarch.  The  men  were  without  rations, 
and  had  marched  almost  day  and  night  since  leaving  Peters 
burg  ;  their  strength  was  slowly  drained  from  them  ;  and  de 
spondency,  like  a  black  and  poisonous  mist,  began  to  invade 
the  hearts  before  so  tough  and  buoyant. 

The  tendency  of  military  life  is  to  make  man  an  animal,  and 
to  subject  his  mind  in  a  great  measure  to  his  body.  Feed  a 
soldier  well,  and  let  him  sleep  sufficiently,  and  he  will  fight 
gaily.  Starve  him,  and  break  him  down  with  want  of  sleep 
and  fatigue,  and  he  will  despond.  He  will  fight  still,  but  not 
gaily;  and  unless  thorough  discipline  is  preserved,  he  will 
"straggle"  off  to  houses  by  the  road  for  food  and  sleep.  De 
sertion  is  not  in  his  mind,  but  the  result  is  the  same.  The  man 
who  lags  or  sleeps  while  his  column  is  retreating,  close  pressed 
by  the  enemy,  never  rejoins  it.  Such  is  the  explanation  of  the 
phenomena  exhibited  on  this  retreat ;  and  now  why  were  the 
troops  thus  left  without  rations,  and  compelled  to  scatter  over 
the  country  in  search  of  enough  food  to  preserve  them  from 
starvation  ? 

The  reply  to  that  question  is.  that  rations  for  his  army  were 
ordered  to  be  sent  to  Amelia  Court-House  by  General  Lee ; 
that  trains  containing  the  supplies  were  dispatched  from  Dan 
ville  ;  and  that  these  trains  were  ordered,  lyy  telegraph  from 


596  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

Richmond,  to  come  on  to  Richmond,  and  did  so,  when  the 
bread  and  meat  was  thrown  in  the  gutter,  to  make  way  for  the 
rubbish  of  the  Departments.  The  rubbish  was  preserved  for 
subsequent  capture,  and  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  stag 
gered  on,  and  starved,  and  surrendered. 

If  any  one  demands  the  proof  of  this  assertion,  I  will  give  it. 


IV. 

General  Lee  left  Amelia  Court-House  on  the  evening  of  the 
5th,  and  from  this  time  the  army  was  incessantly  engaged,  par 
ticularly  with  the  Federal  cavalry.  On  the  6th  the  enemy  wak 
encountered  in  force;  and  line  of  battle  was  formed  to  repulse 
them,  if  they  advanced  upon  the  trains  then  moving  towards 
High  Bridge.  It  was  on  this  evening  that  Generals  Ewell  and  „ 
Anderson  were  suddenly  attacked  and  their  commands  thrown 
into  great  confusion,  in  the  rear  of  the  wagon-trains.  These 
officers  and  others — including  General  Custis  Lee,  son  of  the 
General — were  captured,  and  the  drama  seemed  about  to  end 
here  ;  but  it  did  not. 

To  tl  >  hostile  fate  which  seemed  to  be  pressing  him  to  his 
destrnct.  n,  General  Lee  opposed  a  will  as  unconquerable  as  the 
Greek  Necessity  with  her  iron  wedge.  The  terrible  results  of 
this  disorganization  of  Ewell  and  Anderson  were  averted  by  a 
movement  of  infantry  as  rapid  and  unexpected  as  that  of  the 
Federal  cavalry.  From  the  flanking  column  of  Confederate 
infantry  a  brigade*  was  pushed  across  at  a  double-quick;  and 
between  the  disorganized  troops  of  Ewell  and  the  victorious 
enemy  rose  a  wall  of  bayonets,  flanked  by  cannon.  From  this 
human  rock  the  wave  went  back ;  and  though  the  lurid  glare 
of  the  signals  along  the  Federal  lines  in  the  gathering  dark 
ness  seemed  the  prelude  to  another  attack,  none  was  made. 

I  have  spoken  briefly  of  this  scene.  It  was  one  of  gloomy 
picturesqueness  and  tragic  interest.  On  a  plateau,  raised  above 
the  forest  from  which  they  had  emerged,  were  the  disorganized 
troops  of  Ewell  and  Anderson,  gathered  in  groups,  unofficered, 


LEE'S  LAST  BATTLES.  597 

and  uttering  tumultuous  exclamations  of  rage  or  defiance. 
Rising  above  the  weary  groups  which  had  thrown  themselves 
upon  the  ground,  were  the  grim  barrels  of  cannon,  in  battery, 
to  fire  as  soon  as  the  enemy  appeared.  In  front  of  all  was  the 
still  line  of  battle  just  placed  by  Lee,  and  waiting  calmly. 
General  Lee  had  rushed  his  infantry  over  just  at  sunset,  lead 
ing  it  in  person,  his  face  animated,  and  his  eye  brilliant  with 
the  soldier's  spirit  of  "fight,"  but  his  bearing  unflurried  as 
before.  An  artist  desiring  to  paint  his  picture  ought  to  have 
seen  the  old  cavalier  at  this  moment,  sweeping  on  upon  his 
large  iron  gray,  whose  mane  and  tail  floated  in  the  wind  ;  car 
rying  his  field-glass  half  raised  in  his  right  hand  ;  with  head 
erect,  gestures  animated,  and  in  the  whole  face  and  form  the 
expression  of  the  hunter  close  upon  his  game.  The  line  once 
interposed,  he  rode  in  the  twilight  among  the  disordered 
groups  above  mentioned,  and  the  sight  of  him  raised  a 
tumult.  Fierce  cries  resounded  on  all  sides ;  and  with  hands 
clenched  violently  and  raised  aloft,  the  men  called  on  him  to 
lead  them  against  the  enemy.  "  It's  General  Lee  !  "  "  Uncle 
Robert !  "  "  Where's  the  man  who  won't  follow  Uncle  Rob 
ert?  "  I  heard  on  all  sides  ;  the  swarthy  faces,  full  of  dirt  and 
courage,  lit  up  every  instant  by  the  glare  of  the  burning  wag 
ons.  Altogether,  the  scene  was  indescribable. 

This  took  place  on  the  evening  of  the  6th  of  April.  The 
main  body  of  the  Federal  army  was  now  closing  round  Lee, 
and  it  was  only  by  obstinate  and  persistent  fighting  that  he 
was  able  to  continue  his  retreat.  Everywhere  the  Federal 
forces  were  confronted  by  his  excellently  served  artillery  ;  and 
the  thin  lines  of  infantry,  marching  on  the  flanks  of  the  trains, 
met  and  repulsed  every  attack  with  the  old  spirit  of  the  Army 
of  Northern  Virginia.  In  hunger,  and  thirst,  and  weariness, 
and  retreat,  these  veteran  troops  stood  by  their  colours  without 
a  murmur,  and  fought  as  admirably  as  when  carrying  all  before 
them,  and  flushed  with  victory.  Others,  however,  were  less 
constant ;  rather,  let  us  say,  less  physically  competent.  They 
fell  out  of  the  ranks  by  hundreds,  overcome  by  hunger  and 
exhaustion  ;  or,  what  was  equally  bad,  they  dropped  their  heavy 
37 


598  WEAKING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

guns  and  cartridge-boxes,  and  straggled  along,  a  useless,  cum 
brous  mob.  On  the  morning  of  the  7th,  beyond  Farmville,  the 
Federal  cavalry  made  continuous  and  desperate  onslaughts  on 
the  train,  throwing  everything  into  confusion.  The  teamsters, 
always  the  least  soldierly  portion  of  an  army,  became  panic- 
stricken,  and  the  terrible  roads  increased  a  thousand-fold  the 
difficulties  of  the  march.  Wagons  were  captured  or  aban 
doned  all  along,  in  spite  of  hard  fighting,  and  from  this  time 
the  retreat  became  a  scene  of  disorder  which  no  longer  left  any 
ground  for  hope.  I  intended  to  describe  it,  but  the  subject  is 
too  disagreeable.  Let  some  other  eye-witness  place  upon  record 
these  last  scenes  of  a  great  tragedy.  * 

On  the  7th,  General  Grant  opened  his  correspondence  with 
General  Lee,  stating  that  the  result  of  the  march,  so  far,  must 
have  convinced  him  of  "  the  hopelessness  of  further  resistance ;" 
and  this  correspondence  continued  until  the  morning  of  the 
9th,  General  Lee  refusing  to  surrender  the  army.  But  his  con 
dition  was  hopeless.  The  Confederate  forces  were  reduced  to 
7,800  muskets,  and  Grant  had  in  General  Lee's  front  80,000 
men,  with  a  reserve  of  40,000  or  50,000,  which  would  arrive 
in  twenty -four  hours.  These  odds  were  too  great ;  and  although 
General  Gordon  drove  them  a  mile  with  his  thin  line  half  an 
hour  before  the  surrender,  the  Federal  forces  continued  to  close 
in  and  extend  their  cordon  of  infantry,  cavalry,  and  artillery, 
until  the  Southern  army  was  almost  completely  surrounded. 
Lee's  line  slowly  fell  back  before  this  overwhelming  force,  and 
the  moment  seemed  to  have  come  when  the  "Old  Guard"  of 
the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  would  be  called  upon  to  crown 
its  historic  fame  by  a  last  charge  and  a  glorious  death.  These 
men  would  have  died  with  Lee  without  a  murmur,  fighting  to 
the  last ;  but  any  such  wanton  sacrifice  of  human  life,  without 
any  imaginable  use,  was  far  from  the  thoughts  of  the  great 
soldier.  He  had  fought  as  long  as  he  could,  and  done  all  in  his 
power  to  extricate  his  army  from  a  position  in  which  it  had  been 
placed  by  no  fault  of  his.  Now  he  did  not  hesitate  in  his 
course.  At  first  he  had  recoiled  from  the  idea  of  surrender 
when  it  was  suggested  to  him  by,  I  think,  General  Pendleton. 


599 

This  officer  had  informed  him  that  his  corps  commanders  were 
unanimously  of  opinion  that  surrender  was  inevitable  ;  but  he 
had  exclaimed,  greatly  shocked,  "  Surrender !  I  have  too  many 
good  fighting  men  for  that ! "  Now  the  current  had  set  too 
strongly  against  him,  and  he  was  forced  to  yield.  The  army, 
with  less  than  eight  thousand  muskets,  a  very  short  supply  of 
ammunition,  and  almost  nothing  to  eat,  was  at  Appomattox 
Court-House,  in  the  bend  of  the  James — wholly  impassable 
without  pontoons — and  on  every  side  the  great  force  of  General 
Grant  was  contracting  and  closing  in.  A  Federal  force  had 
seized  considerable  supplies  of  rations,  sent  down  by  railroad 
from  Lynchburg  ;  and  this  force  now  took  its  position  in  front 
of  the  Confederate  army,  slowly  moving  by  the  left  flank  toward 
James  river.  General  Custer,  who  seemed  to  be  greatly  elated 
on  this  occasion,  and  to  enjoy  the  result  keenly,  stated  to  Con 
federate  officers  that  Grant's  force  amounted  to  eighty  thousand 
men,  and  that  a  heavy  reserve  was  coming  up. 

Under  these  circumstances  General  Lee  determined  to  sur 
render  his  army,  and  did  so,  on  condition  that  the  officers  and 
men  should  be  paroled,  to  go  to  their  homes  and  remain  undis 
turbed  by  "  United  States  authorities  "  as  long  as  they  remained 
quiet  and  peaceable  citizens.  Officers  and  men  were  to  retain 
their  private  property,  and  the  former  their  side-arms. 

Such  was  the  Convention  between  Lee  and  Grant. 


v. 

The  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  had  surrendered !  Strange, 
incredible  announcement ! 

The  effect  which  it  produced  upon  the  troops  is  hard  to 
describe.  They  seemed  to  be  stupefied  and  wholly  unable  to 
realize  the  idea.  For  Lee,  the  invincible,  to  yield  up  his  sword 
was  an  incredible  thing ;  and  when  the  troops  could  no  longer 
have  any  doubt,  men  who  had  fought  in  twenty  battles,  and  faced 
death  with  unshrinking  nerve,  cried  like  children.  To  yield  is 
a  terrible  thing — a  bitter  humiliation  ;  and  if  the  private  sol- 


600  WEARING  OF  THE   GRAY. 

diers  felt  it  so  keenly,  we  may  imagine  the  feelings  of  the 
leader  who  was  thus  called  upon  to  write  that  word  "  Sur 
render  "  at  the  end  of  so  great  a  career.  He  had  said  once 
that  he  "  intended  for  himself  to  die  sword  in  hand  ; "  but  now 
not  even  this  was  permitted  him.  He  must  sacrifice  his  men 
or  surrender,  and  he  decided  without  difficulty  or  hesitation. 

If  there  are  any  poor  creatures  so  mean  as  to  chuckle  at  this 
spectacle  of  a  great  man  letting  fall  the  sword  which  has  never 
been  stained  by  bad  faith  or  dishonour,  they  can  indulge  their 
merriment.  The  men  who  had  fought  the  illustrious  leader 
upon  many  battle-fields — who  had  given  and  taken  hard  blows 
in  the  struggle — did  not  laugh  that  day.  « 

The  scenes  which  took  place  between  General  Lee  and  his 
men  were  indescribably  pathetic.  I  shall  not  speak  of  them, 
except  to  say  that  the  great  heart  of  the  soldier  seemed  moved 
to  its  depths.  He  who  had  so  long  looked  unmoved  upon 
good  fortune  and  bad,  and  kept,  in  the  midst  of  disaster  and 
impending  ruin,  the  equanimity  of  a  great  and  powerful  soul, 
now  shed  tears  like  a  child. 

"I  have  done  what  I  thought  was  best  for  you,"  he  said  to 
the  men.  "  My  heart  is  too  full  to  speak  ;  but  I  wish  you  all 
health  and  happiness." 

It  may  be  asked  why  I  have  omitted  from  my  sketch  the 
scene  of  surrender.  There  was  no  such  scene,  except  after 
wards  when  the  troops  stacked  arms  and  marched  off.  The 
real  surrender  was  an  event  which  was  felt,  not  seen.  It  was 
nothing  apparently ;  the  mere  appearance  of  a  Federal  column 
waving  a  white  flag,  and  halting  on  a  distant  hill.  But  the 
tragic  event  was  read  in  the  faces  of  all.  No  guns  in  position 
with  that  column  so  near  ;  no  line  of  battle  ;  no  preparations 
for  action  !  A  dreamy,  memorial  sadness  seemed  to  descend 
through  the  April  air  and  change  the  scene.  Silence  so  deep 
that  the  rustle  of  the  leaves  could  be  heard — and  Longstreet's 
veterans,  who  had  steadily  advanced  to  attack,  moved  back 
like  mourners.  There  was  nothing  visible  in  front  but  that 
distant  column,  stationary  behind  its  white  flag.  ]STo  band 
played,  no  cheer  was  heard  ;  the  feelings  of  the  Southern 


LEES  LAST  BATTLES.  601 

troops  were  spared ;  but  there  were  many  who  wanted  to  die 
then. 

This  retreat  was  a  terrible  episode  of  military  life,  unlike  any 
which  the  present  writer  ever  before  saw ;  but  he  does  not 
regret  having  borne  his  part  in  its  hardships,  its  sufferings,  and 
its  humiliations.  He  is  glad  to  have  seen  the  struggle  out 
under  Lee,  and  to  have  shared  his  fate.  The  greatness  and 
nobility  of  soul  which  characterize  this  soldier  were  all  shown 
conspicuously  in  that  short  week  succeeding  the  evacuation  of 
Petersburg.  He  had  done  his  best,  and  accepted  his  fate  with 
manly  courage,  and  that  erect  brow  which  dares  destiny  to  do 
her  worst ;  or  rather,  let  us  say,  he  had  bowed  submissively  to 
the  decree  of  that  God  in  whom  he  had  ever  placed  his  reliance. 
Lee,  the  victor  upon  many  hard-fought  fields,  was  a  great 
figure  ;  but  he  is  no  less  grand  in  defeat,  poverty,  and  adversity. 
Misfortune  crowns  a  man  in  the  eyes  of  his  contemporaries  and 
in  history ;  and  the  South  is  prouder  of  Lee  to-day,  and  loves 
him  more,  than  in  his  most  splendid  hours  of  victory. 

Joim  ESTEN  COOKE. 

,  June,  1865. 


The  only  Official  and  Authorized  Southern  History  of  the  War, 
By  E.  A.  POLLARD. 


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By  EDWARD  A.  POLLARD,  of  Virginia, 
Editor  of  the  Richmond  "  Examiner  "  during  the  War. 


COBIPRISING  A  1<T7LL  AND  AUTHENTIC  ACCOUNT  OP  THE   RISE  AND  PROGRESS   OT 
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STRUGGLE  OF  THE  WORLD'S  HISTORY. 
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